I'll Bring You Back the Snitch
by corbinsky
Summary: A series of snippets set to occur throughout book six, The Half-Blood Prince and seven, The Deathly Hallows. The first half follows Harry, the second, Ginny, and provide a deeper look into how they fell in love and survived the war, drawing off of what J.K Rowling already so perfectly provided.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I wrote this short series of snippets a while back but never posted it until now. I tried to stay true to the original story, straying only a little from cannon in some slight instances for comedic purposes. Enjoy this first chapter with more to follow soon!**

**Holiday at the Burrow**

Harry stared at the sun's reflection on the upper windows of the Burrow. Flat on his back on the grass, he lounged in the shade of the Weasley's overgrown garden. Beside him lay his neglected book bag, summer holiday homework he had been attempting to work on with Ron before Ron had been called inside by Mrs. Weasley. The air was muggy and thick with an accumulation of darkening clouds moving on the horizon, threatening rain. However, over the Burrow the sun was still strong and penetrating and, even lying still, Harry had beads of perspiration on his hairline.

Closing his eyes, Harry felt himself slip into a lazy doze, shading his face with the crook of his arm. It was the last few days of vacation, and with all that had been going on since Harry had left Privet Drive, he needed a few minutes of quiet. More importantly, a moment where he didn't have to act like everything was fine, like he hadn't lost the most important person in his world.

With the squeak of hinges on the kitchen door, the soft padding of bare feet approached on parched, trodden grass. A shadow fell over Harry where he lay.

"I'll finish it later, Hermione," he muttered without opening his eyes.

"Procrastination never gets you anywhere, Potter."

Harry looked up at the sound of, not Hermione, but of Ginny and her best Professor McGonagall impression. She stood over him with a smirk, a bowl of fresh cherries in one hand and a cold glass of pumpkin juice in the other.

"Hungry?" she asked, plopping down cross-legged beside him. "Mum thought you might be."

Harry turned on his side, propped himself up on an elbow, and dug into the fresh fruit gratefully. "Where's Ron?" he asked. Ginny shrugged, not caring, helping herself to a cherry as well. "Ready for O.W.L's this year?" Harry made conversation.

With a sarcastic grunt, Ginny spit a cherry pit into the hedge. "Were you?" she countered. "I am ready for Quidditch though."

"Yeah,"

"Think you can manage to keep your broom out of the dungeons this year?" Ginny gave him a mocking side-long glance.

"Dunno, think you can catch the snitch in time for Christmas Holidays?" He got a cherry pit in the face for his remark, a well-aimed shot to the forehead.

"All right wiseass, but I won't be catching any snitches this year, that's your job; when you're not in the hospital wing. I'm a fair better seeker than Malfoy at least."

"Who isn't?"

"Git."

They continued to rail on Malfoy, the Slytherins, and all poor Quidditch players in general while depleting the bowl of cherries. A competition arose on who could flick the most pits into a garden gnome hole under a nearby shrub. Five points if they made it in, ten if they hit the occupant inside. The perturbed gnome popped out periodically to shake his angry fist at them, tossing the offending pits out of its hole with a flourish.

"Okay big shot," Ginny challenged, finishing off the last of Harry's pumpkin juice and getting to her feet. "We know how well you can catch a snitch."

"Don't forget my excellent pit chucking skills."

"Yes, but can you Keep against my Quaffles?"

"Can you throw a Quaffle?"

"Shut up and get your broom." Ginny led the way to the shed, and after some digging, they procured their brooms and a well-worn rubber ball the Weasley's used for practice. As Ginny reemerged into the sunlight, shaking spiders from her hair, Harry smiled, reminded of Dumbledore and their spidery conversation in the shed.

"What?" Ginny looked at his amused expression warily.

"Nothing, let's go." He took off on his Firebolt, tempted to push it to top speed but restraining himself. It had been nice to have the freedom to fly nearly as much as he wanted at the Burrow. After several months of banishment followed by weeks of living in muggle constraints at the Dursly's, it was a welcome change.

Once on the practice field, Harry turned in the air, tossing Ginny the ball as she met up with him. "Let's see what you can do."

They flew back and forth, playing catch with the quaffle, Ginny aiming at make-believe goals on either side of Harry. He found himself having to chase after the ball a lot more than he had expected. Ginny was an excellent chaser.

"Oi! You couldn't wait for me to play?" Ron flew through the trees on his new Cleansweep.

"What happened to you?" Harry called out as he pulled up to join them.

"Mum," he scowled. "She cornered me, said I needed a trim." He ran a hand through his unruly red hair. "How's it look?" he asked warily.

"Dashing," Ginny cut in. "Let's play. Ron take Harry's spot as Keeper. Harry, you and I can take turns tossing, that is if you can get it." She flew off down the field with the ball as Ron took his place, ready to keep her from scoring. As they each took their shots, Ron would retrieve it and throw it back towards the center of the field where Harry and Ginny fought to be the first to catch it and take it back to score.

"It's raining," Harry observed, looking up at the darkening sky as the first drops began to fall. The glance lost him the ball as Ginny shot passed, dislodging it from his loose grip.

"So," she shrugged. "You've played in worse."

They kept on, although the rain grew heavier, drenching their light clothing to the skin. Harry regretted being underage, he could have used a little magic to help him keep the water off of his glasses. Ginny was out scoring him two to one.

Ron had the quaffle, ready to make a toss. Harry and Ginny converged in the middle of the soggy field, their eyes on the ball. With the throw they surged upward to meet it in the air. The rubber was slick with rain and hard to hold on to. Harry touched it first but couldn't get a good grip. Ginny grappled for it, elbowing Harry out of the way and tucking it securely under her arm. Harry rammed into her from the side, attempting to dislodge the ball from her grasp. Losing altitude, they fought over possession, coming within only a few feet to the ground before Harry was knocked off his broom into the mud. He held on, dragging Ginny down with him.

"Harry James!" She shrieked with a face full of splattered mud. "Whatever happened to being a gentleman?"

"Hey!" Ron flew down, dismounting from his broom, slipping in the muck and falling on his back with a splash. The two drenched Chasers looked up as he fell, ceasing their competitive brawl to laugh at Ron's expense. The sight of the three of them looking like half drowned rats in a sewer brought the game to an end with exhausted amusement.

They trudged back to the broom shed, leaving their brooms before going to the house. A low rumble of distant thunder followed them as they stepped into the cool kitchen.

"Ginevra!" Mrs. Weasley stepped in from the sitting room, stopping in mid-stride. "I just washed this floor, what have you been doing?"

"Playing Quidditch."

"There are muddy footprints all over, Ronald you're dripping on the rug."

"Ooh, what iz zat 'orrible smell?" Fleur stepped down the stairs holding her delicate nose.

"Maybe it's all the phlegm," Ginny muttered.

"Move, all of you," Mrs. Weasley commanded shrilly. "Boys, go clean up in the mud room, Ginny upstairs with me for a bath."

"Mum, I can handle that myself, thanks." Ginny gritted her teeth, stomping up the stairs to the second floor followed by Molly cleaning the dirty footprints off the carpet with her wand.

"French girlz would never get so dirty."

Ron and Harry hurried off to the mud room to avoid a lesson in French etiquette from Fleur. With difficulty, Harry removed his soggy trainers and peeled off his dripping socks. Lightning flashed through the lone window above the basin, filling the low-lit room with an electric glow.

"'Spose it's good practice tho', playing in the rain." Ron commented, running warm water in the sink and adding soap. "We'll get plenty wet in it at this year's matches. If I get on the team again," he added despondently.

"You will," Harry muttered, struggling to pull off his wet t-shirt, glasses askew.

"Mum cut it too short on the sides again." Ron frowned into the cracked mirror hanging beside the coat rack. "You sure it looks okay? Do my ears stick out?"

"Don't they always?"

The door swung open and Hermione stepped in carrying a pile of clean clothes.

"Sorry, Harry," she said. "Ron, your Mom told me to bring you both these." She handed over the fresh clothes. "You two are more of a mess than Ginny, what were you doing? I thought you were working on homework?"

Harry swore suddenly, running out of the room, back into the sopping yard to where Ron and his book bags still lay in the garden soaked with rain.

The sitting room was littered with open textbooks and parchment set out to dry. Mrs. Weasley went about with her wand using a drying spell on the worst of it. Harry watched, feeling slightly guilty for his negligence.

"Checkmate," Ron pointed out triumphantly.

Harry looked back at the game board and his injured and groaning chess pieces. He hadn't really been concentrating on strategy so was not too upset at the loss. Conceding defeat, he excused himself to go into the kitchen. Rain continued to patter against the windows. The Burrow was full of chatter with the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, and Fleur all there. Fred and George had even shown up for dinner. The next day was the last of the summer holidays so they had joined the rest of the family to enjoy a late meal one last time before the start of school.

"Seems strange, us not going to meet the train with you lot," George commented from the table where Bill and Fleur were deep into wedding plans with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"Yeah, bet ol' Filtchy won't know what to do without us," Fred grinned.

"I bet your presence will be known quite enough with all the merchandise you've sold to so many Hogwarts students." Mrs. Weasley gave her sons a disapproving lift of the eyebrows.

"Speaking of which," Fred turned to Harry. "We've been working on something new, care to advertise?"

"What?" Harry asked a little warily.

"It's a bone mender, strictly for small sprains and such, not quite up to St. Mungos standards but tastes a great deal better than Skelegrow. I'm sure you'll agree. If you could just take a swig the next time you come in contact with a rogue bludger—"

"Or a dementor—"

"Or any such troubles on the Quidditch pitch—"

"We'd greatly appreciate the publicity."

"It's nice to see you put some energy into something useful," Mrs. Weasley said approvingly.

"Dead useful," George nodded.

"No more detentions for between lesson duels gone awry," Fred agreed.

Harry returned to the sitting room and took a comfortable chair by the window. The air was sticky and dense with humidity. The patter of rain on the sill of the partially open window lifted the heat in the small, close room. Ginny sat opposite, curled in a chair writing a letter.

"I'd like to know how they tested it," she said without looking up. Harry looked at her confused. "Fred and George, they always test new product on themselves. I'd like to know who sprained whose bones to try and mend them."

"Oh," Harry laughed, "yeah, me too."

"Why not," Ron argued from the couch, attempting to reach for a writing tablet in Hermione's hand, held out of his reach.

"No, Ronald," Hermione insisted, growing red in the face.

"Come on, why can't I read it?"

"Don't be so nosy, Ron," Ginny snapped. "Hermione can write to whoever she wants."

"It's not a letter, it's— it's nothing," Hermione stammered.

"Then why can't I read it?"

"Because," her jaw stiffened, defiant with embarrassment, "it's personal." She jumped up from the couch and ran for the stairs.

"Personal," Ron snorted.

"You're such a prat." Ginny scowled at him.

"What's she got to be personal about?"

"A great deal more than you do," she snapped, returning to her letter.

Ron mumbled something about just being curious, stalking into the kitchen going off about over sensitive females.

"Thank you, Harry," Ginny said fiercely.

"For what?"

"Thank you for knowing how to be a gentleman, unlike some people."

Harry smiled faintly. "I thought I wasn't a gentleman."

"That was before." Ginny thought about it, putting her quill to her chin. "It's okay not to be a gentleman playing Quidditch."

Harry raised his eyebrows in amusement.

"Unless I'm losing," she added.

"Of course."

Hermione returned downstairs free of her writing tablet. She sat down in a huff on the other side of Harry.

"Ginny," she brushed her frizzy hair out of her face in frustration. "I hid my tablet in your underwear drawer. I would hope Ron won't go looking in there."

"He better not."

Harry eyed Hermione curiously.

"It's nothing," she crossed her arms defiantly.

Chairs scrapped the floorboards in the kitchen as the twins got ready to leave for London. The family converged in the sitting room to bid them goodnight.

"Take care, Harry," Fred shook his hand. "Don't forget, if you break any bones…"

"We'll send you a sample just in case," George nodded.

They disappeared into the rainy mist, apparating some distance from the house.

"Well, I'm beat," Arthur Weasley yawned. "I think I'll turn in. Molly?"

"Don't know that any of us will sleep much in this heat."

"Well, it's like I've been telling you, dear, if you would only let me try a few spells I think I can get that muggle contraption I've got in out the shed to work. It's called an air colditioner. Isn't that right, Harry?"

"What? Oh…right."

"It'll cool the whole house down like it was Christmas in the summer!"

"No Arthur, not another word about it," Molly snapped at her husband then turned to the others. "Don't stay up too late now, busy day tomorrow. Good night!"

Dreaming, Harry found himself in the garden at the Burrow. It was raining, not drops of water but cherry pits which fell with a musical ping on the ground, reverberating against the hollow insides of unused flower pots and dented tin water pails. Harry stood in the middle of the garden getting hit with the falling pellets when he realized that they weren't falling from the sky but were being thrown over the hedge by dozens of angry garden gnomes. Harry picked up a handful of pits, prepared to throw them back in defense, when Ginny appeared beside him.

"Don't be a prat, Harry," she said. "Hermione can write to garden gnomes if she wants to. Now get your broom, we're going to London."

"What's in London?" Harry heard himself ask, but Ginny was already in the air flying away into the clouds. Looking down he realized that his broom was in his hand and next thing he knew he was flying over the night-lit buildings of London. Ginny was nowhere in sight. Landing on a deserted muggle street, Harry found himself in front of the Leaky Cauldron as a dark, cloaked figure passed through the door.

"Sirius?" Harry's heart pounded. Hurrying after his godfather, Harry pushed open the door and stepped into a dimly lit room with stone steps dropping away before him. There in the center was the raised dias. Sirius stood before the archway, his back to Harry. Harry tried to call out to him, tried to stop him from going through, but no sound would escape from his throat. Running, he reached out a desperate hand, touching only air as Sirius stepped through and was gone.

Harry awoke with a start, wet with a cold sweat. Looking around, it was daylight. There were voices and footsteps outside the room on the stairs.

"Harry?" Hermione knocked, opening his door and sticking her head in. "If you want breakfast you better get up." Then she was gone down the stairs followed by Ginny's voice calling to Mrs. Weasley on the landing. Harry lay a moment staring at the back of the door as the last misty traces of his dream faded away. He had dreamt of Sirius many times over the summer, but each time felt like the first and wrenched him to the core. A painful pang of guilt hit him like a blow from a well-aimed bludger. It was supposed to be getting easier, not harder.

"Hey," Ron hit Harry's door with his fist on his way past. "Food, mate, let's go."

Rolling out of bed, Harry rubbed his tired eyes, found his glasses and reached for his clothes. Forget about Sirius, he told himself. Just…just forget about everything.

In the kitchen Harry found everyone already seated and digging in to Mrs. Weasley's excellent spread of sausage and eggs.

"Tuck in Harry," Mr. Weasley grinned at him from the head of the table. "We've just started. Beautiful day for your last of holiday; the weather has cleared nicely and the rain cooled things down considerably."

Harry glanced up to see Mrs. Weasley looking at him with a searching gaze.

"Feeling all right, Harry?" she asked. "You look pale."

"I'm fine," he insisted, "just tired."

"Well eat up, you'll feel better after a full breakfast."

The food was delicious but it did little to lighten his mood. A sharp headache was building in Harry's temples, and the thought of spending the day packing and cleaning was not appealing. As the table was being cleared away, the mail arrived with an exhausted Errol and a younger, smaller owl; an owl that had been seen often at the Burrow that summer.

"Another letter from Dean, Ginny."

"What could he possibly have to talk about?" Ron scoffed. "You'll see him on the train tomorrow."

"Never you mind," Ginny snatched away her letter and got up from the table. "Don't send off Dean's owl 'til I give him my letter." She dashed upstairs to her room to retrieve it.

Suddenly wanting to be alone, Harry excused himself from the table and headed upstairs himself. Passing Ginny's room, he stopped short as she rushed past on her way back to the kitchen.

"Sorry, Harry," she touched his arm to keep from colliding into him, slipping along the wall of the confined space and disappearing down the staircase. Harry stood outside the open door of her room, standing in the warm ray of light filtering from the opposite window. The glare of the sun fell upon a mirror over her dresser, drawing Harry's eye to a photograph sticking out from the frame. Moving into the room, Harry went for a closer look. It was a comfortable space, clean but not orderly, except for the spare bed where Hermione had been sleeping the past few weeks. That of course was prim and organized from the quilt on the bed to the carefully packed trunk at the foot.

Ginny's bed was unmade, there were clothes hanging on the posts, and a subtle scent of flowers mixed with fresh air and rain. On the walls were tacked little mementos in Gryffindor colors, photos of Ginny and her fellow fifth years, and magazine cut outs in bright lettering. Arnold the Pygmy Puff lay asleep in a patch of sun on the window sill.

There were several photos attached to the mirror, but the one that caught Harry's attention was one taken at the Quidditch World Cup. It was inside the tent after the match, during the celebration for the winning Irish team. Harry didn't recall the picture ever having been taken, but there he was, standing in the smelly old tent in front of the bunks, Ron and Hermione on one side of him, Ginny on the other. They had all squeezed in tight to fit in the picture, nearly falling in their attempt to stay on their feet. Harry had his arm draped around Ginny and from the movement in the magical photo they were all laughing.

"Hey."

Harry jumped, turning as Ginny bounded back into the room. "Hey, ah I was just…" Harry stammered blushing, pointing at the picture.

"Oh," Ginny smiled, sitting down at her writing desk under the window. "Yeah, do you remember that?"

"Not really," Harry admitted.

"I suppose not." Ginny began opening her letter from Dean. "It was a busy night."

"Yeah." Harry slipped from the room, leaving her to read in privacy. He returned to Fred and George's room to begin sorting through his trunk but once he got there all he managed to do was toss a few clothes in a pile and slump back on the bed to stare at the ceiling.

He should be happy, he knew. He was going back to school tomorrow. The reign of Umbridge was long past; it would be a better year than the last at least. His lifelong Quidditch ban had been suspended. He had made Captain of the team, he should be thrilled. But the broken record in his mind; the memory of the words replaying over and over: Neither can live while the other survives…The Chosen One, the Chosen One to kill or be killed, it continued to haunt him to distraction. But there was the promise of extra lessons with Dumbledore to look forward to. What he would teach Harry was anyone's guess, but there was hope in a plan.

And then there was Malfoy, not usually someone Harry cared to give much thought to, but since the trip to Diagon Alley and Malfoy's suspicious actions, Harry kept coming back to it. Part of him just wanted to keep on where he was, stay at the Burrow, a continuous summer of lazy afternoons and Quidditch matches with Ron and Ginny…

Hedwig flew in the open window and landed on the bed beside Harry, back from a night of hunting. Harry greeted her with an affectionate scratch under the feathers. She hooted dolefully, ready for a long nap. A small fuzzy bouncy ball careened through the window after her, hitting the wall and zooming around the ceiling. Hedwig hooted disapprovingly, giving Harry a desperate look to please rid her of this nuisance. Harry got up and opened the door to the hall.

"Out, Pig," he commanded. "Ron's downstairs."

The tiny overexcited owl whizzed out into the stairwell and disappeared with an excited twitter. Harry looked about the room at all his scattered, disheveled possessions and sighed. He might as well get started. "Procrastination never got you anywhere, Potter," he muttered, dropping books into his open trunk.


	2. Chapter 2

**Term Trials**

Cursing Draco Malfoy, Harry stood before the bathroom mirror examining his nose. It had started bleeding again. Dabbing it with a wet cloth, he winced while noticing the deepening purple twinge under his eyes. He would have to send an owl to Fred and George ordering some of their bruise reducing cream. What a way to start a new school term. Between Malfoy and Snape, Harry had received quite the welcome.

He thought of the injustice of Dumbledore giving Snape the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. What was he playing at anyway? Harry almost wished Tonks had never found him on the train. He'd be on his way back to London, homeless and destitute, but free of Snape. Well, at least Harry had proven one thing, whether Hermione or Ron wanted to believe it or not, Malfoy was up to something.

"Blimey, Harry," Dean Thomas stepped into the bathroom followed by Seamus, both carrying toothbrushes. "You look like hell."

"Thanks," Harry muttered ungratefully.

"Yeah, Harry," Seamus teased. "School hasn't even started yet, that's some kind of record, even for you."

"What happened to you?"

"Nothing," Harry touched his wound gingerly, irritated by the interview.

"Come on, was it dragons again? Or maybe dementors?"

"Leave off," Ron joined them, shoving Seamus out his way to get to the sinks. "Let the man be."

"All right, Harry," Dean laughed, leading the way back out into the sixth year dormitory.

Ron shook his head at Harry's reflection. "You do look awful."

Several weeks into term Harry, Hermione, and Ron were in the common room after dinner attempting to work on an immense pile of homework. Harry struggled through his Transfiguration essay, his mind wandering constantly back to the memory he had recently seen in Dumbledore's pensieve. Voldemort had a mother, it was a queer thought. Even queerer was the comparability between Tom Riddle's situation and Harry's. Orphans at a young age; the thought of their similarities was not comforting.

Ginny arrived, trudging her way through the portrait hole with an armful of books, dropping them on the table and slumping into a chair next to Hermione in exhaustion.

"I'm ready to pull a Weasley," she groaned.

"You are a Weasley," Hermione pointed out.

"Do you think Mum would notice if I started living in Fred and George's attic 'til the end of term?"

"Definitely," Ron grunted, head down on his D.A.D.A. textbook.

"If it's this bad now, what'll it be like in May?" Ginny asked in despair.

"Dreadful," Harry and Ron said in unison.

"I'm not going to make it," she concluded.

"Yes you will," Hermione reassured her.

"I'm going to bed," Ron announced, raising his head from the table.

"It's only seven o'clock."

"Then I'm taking a nap." He got up and headed for the stairs, ascending to the dormitories above.

Harry stared at his poorly written introduction and the inches of empty parchment still left to fill. It would be another late night of homework. The sun was setting outside the common room windows, a deep orange glow in a crisp September sky. Maybe he should go down for a run on his Firebolt and enjoy a few laps around the Quidditch pitch to clear his head.

"You've barely started," Hermione perceived his wistful gaze out the window.

"I'm pacing myself."

Ginny snorted.

"I'm taking my time," Harry retorted defensively. "Doing it right."

"Is that what you're doing?" Ginny said snidely.

"You're in a fine mood," Harry countered.

"You should know all about moods, Harry Potter. You could write a book."

"Want to see an example?"

"I've seen plenty."

"Keep it up, Weasley."

Hermione looked from one to the other with a queer look on her face. "I need to go to the library," she stated, jumping up and thrusting her books into her bag. She disappeared through the portrait hole, leaving Harry and Ginny alone at the table.

"Strange girl, that Granger," Ginny said, flipping pages in her textbook. Harry caught her eye and they both broke into grins, laughing.

"Ready for tryouts?" Harry asked after they had worked in silence for a while.

Ginny sighed. "I hope so. I've hardly had any time to practice."

Harry wanted to tell her that even without practice she was one of the best Chasers in the school; that she didn't have to worry about not making the team. But as captain he figured he had better wait until tryouts to make that conclusion.

"What are our chances this year do you think?" Ginny pondered.

Harry smiled, not missing the 'our' in Ginny's question. He didn't have to tell her, she was already confident in her abilities. "I dunno," he shrugged. "Got to wait to see what our team looks like."

She nodded thoughtfully, dripping ink all down her parchment in her distraction. "Damn," she caught herself, moving her quill away.

"Here," Harry grabbed his wand, siphoning off the offending stain with the tip.

"That's useful."

"Hermione's spells usually are." He handed back her essay, returning his wand to his pocket.

"I'm so tired, I can hardly think," Ginny exhaled deeply. "And I still have Herbology, an essay for Snape, and History of Magic yet to do tonight."

"Let's take a break." Harry rolled up his paper, tossing it into his bag with his ink bottle and quill. "Let's go down to the field and practice, get some fresh air."

Ginny looked from him to the window longingly, debating. "No," she shook her head decidedly, turning back to her work. "I have too much to do; I can't be distracted. Besides, you're Captain, Harry. What would the others think if you were helping me train before tryouts? It wouldn't be fair."

"I practice with Ron."

"That's Ron," Ginny frowned.

Harry sunk back into his chair, resigned, watching her scratch out a few lines on her paper. The room was growing louder as more and more people made their way back to the common room. He couldn't get himself to complete any more work just then, his mind was too restless for studying. Instead he pulled out his Potions book and skimmed through the Prince's techniques. The portrait door swung open and Dean and Seamus walked in behind a number of fifth years. Dean walked up behind Ginny's chair, putting his arms around her in greeting. They kissed, whispered to one another, and otherwise tried hard to make Harry wish he was elsewhere.

"I'm going to the library," he muttered abruptly, getting up to leave. Whatever happened to no distractions?

* * *

Harry pushed away his empty dessert plate with a contented sigh. He was stuffed, full from yet another excellent Hogwarts Halloween feast. The Great Hall flickered from the light of hundreds of lit candles, heavy with dripping wax, which floated among dozens of live bats fluttering about the enchanted ceiling.

"The house elves outdid themselves this year." Ron licked his spoon appreciatively, ignoring the scathing look he got from Hermione.

"Better than Death Day party food," Harry grinned.

"Where is Nearly Headless Nick?" Ron looked down the long Gryffindor table.

"Talking to the Bloody Baron," Ginny leaned in on the other side of Ron. "Listen, Dean's planning an all-nighter in the common room after the feast," she informed them. "Coming?" she asked, looking directly at Harry.

"Of course we're coming, where else would we be?" Ron scoffed. Harry nodded in agreement, and Ginny smiled, ignoring Ron.

"Good," she turned back to Dean with a flip of her long hair in her brother's face.

"Watch it," he snapped. "Jeez, Mum just had to have a girl, didn't she? Couldn't have just stopped at me and been done with it."

In the common room, the party began in full swing. Someone had confiscated a few jack-o-lanterns from the feast and had them levitating, racing two at a time around the ceiling. A fine spectacle until one lost control, smashed into the fireplace mantle, and crashed on top of Collin Creevy's head. Music blared through the wireless and butterbeers appeared for all to pass around. Harry found himself in the center of a crowd on the sofa. A group of first years clumped around on the floor, anxious to hear firsthand what had happened at the Ministry the previous spring. Harry wasn't eager to talk about it but gave them a few details to curb their curiosity.

"You saw You-Know-Who?" A curly-headed girl in glasses asked.

Harry nodded, thinking _seeing_ was an understatement. "His name is Voldemort," he corrected her, catching Ginny's eye where she sat on the arm of Dean's chair, off to the side. Her eyes glinted in the firelight, a playful half smile on her face. Then Dean spoke to her and she turned away. Harry wondered what she had been thinking, what had struck her as funny about him telling a group of impressionable first years not to be afraid of using Voldemort's name. _They have to learn it some time,_ he thought.

"Harry," Hermione popped up from the back of the sofa. "Want to visit Hagrid?" She raised her eyebrows in the direction of the gawking first years with a knowing look.

"Yes!" Harry jumped up eagerly at the invitation, quick to break away from the crowd and all the noise. "I'll get my cloak."

* * *

Rotten flobberworms had the distinct smell of vinegar mixed with death. Harry was certain he would never get the stench off of his hands.

"Cheer up, Potter." Snape sneered from his desk where he was correcting papers while overseeing Harry's detention. "It's only a ten gallon barrel. You'll be able to sort through that tonight with all you're immeasurable talents I'm sure."

" Nothing I'd rather be doing, Professor," Harry said blandly, picking up a handful of wriggling, foul-smelling worms and slapping it on the table in front of him to be sorted.

"Indeed," Snape's eyes narrowed. "Every five worms that don't survive the sorting will count against your final grade. I suggest you handle with care."

"What, exactly, do flobberworms have to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Harry asked.

"That's beside the point. You are serving detention under my watch. Your performance is related to your overall grade in the class in which I _teach_, is that a clear enough explanation for you?"

"Shouldn't I be ridding the castle of boggarts then, sir? Something more relevant?"

"This is detention, Potter. It's supposed to teach you a lesson on insubordination, not give you more cause to inflate your ego. Plenty of other opportunities for that," Snape sneered, looking down his long greasy nose at Harry. "Like I've said before…just like your father."

"Most people say I'm a lot like my mum too," Harry's hand clenched over a fist full of worms in the barrel. "Are they wrong?"

Snape's expression turned cold. Harry returned the gaze unflinching.

"I'm sure I wouldn't know," Snape replied. "Get to work."

Dropping a fungus coated, dead flobberworm into the trash bin, Harry glared vehemently at the back of Snape's head, keeping the rest of his bitter thoughts to himself for the remaining duration of detention. Dumbledore might have trusted the man, but Harry was sure that his life would have been better without him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Quidditch and Christmas**

"We're awful."

"We're not awful."

"I'm awful."

"You're not awful."

"We're going to lose."

"Shut it, Ron. We are not going to lose." Harry changed out of his Quidditch uniform, aching from another brutal and frustrating practice. He had tried to be positive for the sake of his team, but now as the changing room emptied, and with Ron's obsessive negativity, Harry gave up, ready to quit and resign as captain. An exhausted and forlorn Ron left the changing room without bothering to remove his uniform.

"Go ahead, Dean. I'll meet you in the Great Hall."

Harry's heartbeat quickened at the sound of Ginny behind him. He waited for the sound of the door closing behind Dean before turning around.

"We are going to lose, aren't we?" Ginny slumped despondently onto one of the benches, pulling her hair band loose and letting her windswept hair fall. She was worn out and a mess from an hour of intense flying, but Harry couldn't take his eyes off of her. Ever since Ron and he had walked in on her and Dean snogging Harry had been trying to avoid her. He was doing everything he could not to think of Ron's little sister, but it wasn't working.

"We're awful," Ginny mimicked her brother's phrasing with a sigh.

"No we're not," Harry repeated, anxiously looking for a way out.

"No, _we're_ not," Ginny agreed significantly.

"Ron's not either," Harry defended his best friend. "He's just nervous."

"It'd be nice if he'd cut that out."

Preparing to leave, Harry made his way to the door. It had been so easy to talk to her before, but now…

"I guess it'll be up to you then." She stood and picked up her things, following Harry to the door. "Catch the Snitch before things fall to pieces and we might be okay."

"Not before you score twenty goals."

"Mighty high expectations Potter."

"Not for you."

Ginny smiled appreciatively, walking close enough beside him that Harry had to be careful not to walk into her. She was not making things easy.

They walked to the doors of the Great Hall, Harry forcing himself to talk casually about the disappointing practice and the upcoming match.

"Coming in for dinner?" Ginny stopped at the open entrance in the light streaming out from inside the hall. Harry shook his head, moving towards the staircase.

"I'm going to get cleaned up. I need to get started on some homework."

"Alright, Harry. See you."

He turned with his foot on the first step, calling back. "If you see Ron, tell him what a great job he did at practice tonight," Harry smiled mischievously.

"I'll get right on that, Captain."

* * *

"Someone needs to slap those two." Ginny threw her book bag over her shoulder in disgust.

"Who?" Harry read through his D.A.D.A assignment, scratching off a mistake here and there.

"You know."

"Goblins?" Luna suggested.

"No," Ginny looked at her queerly, "Ron and Hermione."

They sat, grouped in the hall near the library after lunch, passing the time before afternoon lessons.

"Why do they need to be slapped?" Neville asked, confused.

"Because they're blind," Harry muttered, giving up on what was sure to be another failed assignment for Snape.

"Windle Weasel accident?" Luna asked, sympathetically.

"If only," Ginny snorted appreciatively. "Why are guys so dense?" she asked, referring to Ron.

"Not just guys," Harry commented.

"I don't know what Ron's thinking. I mean, seriously, Lavender Brown?"

"Ron's with Lavender?" Neville asked.

"Where have you been, mate?" Harry shook his head.

"Is she that Gryffindor sixth year who's been following him around a lot?" Luna asked.

"Yep."

"How nice," she smiled dreamily. "She seems intelligent."

"Ha! As if," Ginny scoffed.

Luna looked surprised. "She seems to have an excellent knowledge of Wrackspurt extraction. They're a tricky species and can only be removed from the brain by a difficult mouth-to-mouth procedure. My father has done extensive research on the theory, and Lavender's technique is well practiced."

"That's the truth." Ginny and Harry broke out laughing, leaving Luna and Neville in bewilderment.

"You're brilliant, Luna." Harry shook his head in amusement. The hall grew noisy as it filled up with students on their way to their lessons. Harry and Neville turned to walk one way, saying goodbye to the girls.

"So, why do Ron and Hermione need slapping?" Neville asked.

"Long story," Harry muttered, not really in the mood to get into it. His mind was on other things, like how to not think about the way it had felt when Ginny had touched his arm briefly while laughing about Wrackspurt extraction. Or how hard it was to breathe correctly whenever she caught his eye. Concentrating in class wasn't going to be easy; Harry just couldn't get the picture of her out of his head no matter how hard he tried.

* * *

Christmas spirit was tough in coming for Harry, even with a trip to the Burrow to enjoy. With all that was going on, there were more important things to dwell on than baubles, crackers, and mistletoe. Ron and Hermione were still not speaking; Harry was tired of being stuck in the middle and needed a break. He kept going over the conversation he had overheard between Snape and Malfoy. No one but him seemed at all concerned about a secret mission and an unbreakable vow. On top of all that, Harry was now supposed to spend all of the holidays at the Burrow, usually a welcoming thought, but it was hard enough avoiding Ginny at Hogwarts. In the Weasley's cramped home it was next to impossible.

Christmas Eve night Harry found himself alone in the kitchen while the rest of the family was in the sitting room before the warm fire. He had stepped in for some purpose or other, but had stopped before the washboard and found himself staring out the window at the night sky. A feeling of overwhelming loneliness fell over him, and memories of the previous Christmas stole through his mind. Granted it hadn't been a particularly merry one then either, what with the scare of Mr. Weasley's snake attack and a holiday visit to St. Mungos, but Harry remembered the sound of Sirius singing carols to Buckbeak on the stairs of Grimmauld Place. Looking out at the frozen garden, snow glinting under the moon, Harry felt distant from the warm Christmas mood in the adjoining room.

Harry pulled his attention away from the window just as Ginny entered the kitchen full of energy and singing off-key along with Celestina Warbeck on the wireless. The more Harry tried to keep his distance the more he found himself alone with her.

"Smile, Grumpy, its Christmas." Ginny grinned at him with eyes twinkling. "It's a time for singing and dancing to the magnificent Celestina Warbeck."

"Hope you dance better than you sing." Harry raised a mocking eyebrow.

"Better than you."

"I can dance," he defended himself, unconvincingly.

"No, no, I saw you at the Yule ball. That was not dancing. This is dancing." She moved in, grabbing Harry by the hands and placed one on her waist, holding tight to the other. She led him in a less-than-graceful waltz around the kitchen. They turned on the spot, Ginny laughing at their clumsiness. Stopping face to face, Harry inhaled the sweet smell of flowers which made him catch his breath.

"Merry Christmas, Harry," Ginny said softly.

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley's voice rang out from the other room, breaking in before Harry could reply. Ginny stepped away and released his hand with a gentle smile, disappearing back into the sitting room.

Harry steadied himself against the edge of the counter, breathing slowly. She's Ron's sister, Ron's sister, Dean's girlfriend. Ron's sister…When he felt able to move, he rejoined the others, taking a seat next to Mr. Weasley in front of the fire.


	4. Chapter 4

**Headaches and Poetry**

The second half of the term was no better than the first. On top of Quidditch and regular classes there were Apperation lessons. Not to mention Dumbledore's task of abstracting the ever important memory from Professor Slughorn; a job Harry was failing at miserably. Of course Hermione and Ron had not resolved their differences, and Harry had still not solved the mystery of Malfoy's curious disappearances on the Marauder's Map. Walking the halls after lessons one afternoon, Harry absentmindedly pulled the magical map from his pocket. Ducking in an alcove which housed a rusty suit of armor, he tapped it with his wand and spoke the phrase which was the key to accessing the map.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Scanning it quickly for Malfoy's name, Harry swore in frustration when he couldn't find it, causing the suit of armor to jump beside him. Where could he be if not in the castle? He asked this question over and over and still had no answer. Harry had just seen Malfoy himself, not a half-an-hour before in a corridor on the seventh floor.

Harry looked up as Ginny and Dean walked up the hall, hand in hand. Hiding behind the offended armor, he kept from being seen. Harry wasn't in the mood for small talk, he was afraid of taking an unprovoked swing at Dean's face.

When they had turned the corner and were out of sight, Harry tried to step out of the alcove but found his way barred by the unruly suit of armor.

"Move," Harry demanded, not amused.

The armor refused to listen. Harry kicked out at the piece of metal causing it to crumple in a heap on the floor, much more fragile than he had supposed.

"Potter!" Harry looked around to find the menacing shape of Snape flying at him from up the corridor. "Detention," Snape barked, stopped short in front of Harry, "for your arrogant disregard of school property."

The suit of armor groaned and twitched on the floor. Harry stood, jaw clenched, meeting Snape's dark, scrutinizing gaze.

"My office, eight o'clock," he turned on his heel and stalked away. Harry prepared to go the other way, swearing a bit too loudly as he went. He got no further than a step before he was stopped short by a strong force which drove him back, pushing him up against the wall. Snape had his wand on him, holding Harry in place, a deadly expression on his hollow features.

"Watch your mouth," he snapped, "that's two detentions, Potter. Care to try for a third?"

Harry restrained a snide comment which would have cost him. "No, sir."

"Remove your hand from your wand." Snape instructed fiercely. "Attacking one of your superiors would be unwise. Wouldn't want to be expelled, would we?" Snape flicked his own wand, releasing the spell which held Harry to the wall. "Move along," he commanded coldly. Not hesitating, Harry left, taking the first turn out of the hall he on his right. Ducking through a well-known shortcut, Harry avoided running into anyone else, certain his day couldn't get any worse.

* * *

Harry couldn't sleep, his head was splitting in pain and the potion Madame Pomfrey had given him had done little to dull it away. What a complete disaster; his reputation as Quidditch Captain was a bust. Just wait until he got out of the hospital wing; McLaggen was a dead man.

Ron's snoring in the adjoining bed didn't help Harry's inability to sleep either. Perhaps, Harry thought, he should call Dobby back to roll Ron on his side and stop up his nasal passages. Wincing, Harry tried to find a more comfortable position, staring through the dark at the mound that was on the bedside table. It was a care package from Fred and George complete with a prototype sample of their new bone mending product and many thanks for following their request. Harry noticed a piece of parchment sticking out over the edge of the table, underneath the package. Pulling it free, Harry grabbed his wand, despite the pain it caused him to move.

"Lumos," he pointed the wand at the paper, glancing around to make sure the light wasn't disturbing Ron. It was a folded piece of thick green paper, on the cover was a rather well-done drawing of McLaggen demonstrating the proper way to bash himself in the head with a Beater's bat. Harry smiled, flipping to the inside and catching sight of Ginny's familiar curvy penmanship. He read:

_To the Boy Who Bruises,_

_ Here you are once again,_

_ Dazed and broken in a hospital bed_

_ Breaks and cuts, blood and guts_

_With that crack in the head, _

_ It's a wonder you're not dead._

_ Your new name is destined to be,_

_ The Boy Who Lived, but Just Barely_

_ I fear your efforts are too late,_

_ A life of injuries is your fate_.

And in the post script:

_Don't be morbid, Harry, of course you're the Boy Who Lived and will go on living, unless you're a fool and let McLaggen stay on the team. Get better soon. _

_ -Ginny_

Harry smiled, rereading the card twice before propping it next his water glass on the side table and rolling over for a second attempt at sleep. Maybe the head wound was worth it, just to receive that. He wouldn't mind obtaining a few more injuries if it meant a personal card from Ginny each time. Imagining a scene where he kicked McLaggen off the team and angered the overbearing, poor excuse for a Keeper into taking Harry out with a defensive bludger. Harry pictured Ginny rushing to his aid, cursing out McLaggen with her hot-headed malice, and kissing Harry back to good health right there on the Quidditch pitch. With that vision playing in his mind's eye, Harry soon drifted off into a peaceful sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Dobby's Cookies**

Resting his head against the back of his armchair, Harry stared at the common room ceiling. It was late, the room nearly deserted. Hermione had already gone to bed, leaving Harry and Ron to tackle their homework on their own. Harry was having trouble concentrating, his head felt full and overworked. Where was Dumbledore's pensieve when he could have used it?

The thought of Dumbledore made Harry's heart sink. The headmaster had entrusted him with one task, and he couldn't even manage that. Slughorn had his secret and was keeping it well. And now Dumbledore was disappointed in Harry, understanding, but disappointed.

"I can't do it," Ron spoke into his hand covering his weary expression. "They're insane these professors, mental. There's no way I can finish all this and survive."

"Have to, don't we?" Harry yawned, turning back to his work.

"Not tonight," Ron shook his head. "If I write another inch I'll die. I'm done." He tossed his things in his bag and stood. "You coming?"

"Not yet," Harry bent over his book, reading. "You go ahead; I'll be up in a bit."

Determined to make at least some headway, he pressed on, outlasting even the most diligent fifth years studying for their O.W.L.s. Soon he was the last one in the common room, staring blurry-eyed at his potions book, the Prince's miniscule writing swimming on the page. He didn't even realize he had fallen asleep until he woke with a start, his head popping up off the table abruptly.

The room was dark but for the red glow of the dying fire. There was a noise somewhere in the room, quiet and intermittent. A sniffing, like someone was crying. Harry got up and moved towards the sofa expecting to see a ghost or a house elf or something. "Ginny?" Surprised, Harry stopped short at the sight of her sitting on the rug before the fire with her back against the sofa. She jumped at the sound of Harry's voice, hastily wiping her eyes.

"Harry, I didn't see you. What are you doing?"

"I think I was sleeping," he said, stepping around the couch. "I had been studying. Are…are you okay?"

She sniffed, eyes wet and red rimmed. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

Harry sat down beside her, wishing he had a handkerchief to lend. "Need to borrow my sleeve?" he offered lamely.

"No," she laughed. "I've got my own, thanks."

They sat in silence a moment while she composed herself. Harry stared at the fire's coals awkwardly, searching for something to say. "So, what happened?" he ventured. "Are things alright with Dean?"

"Yeah, they're fine." Ginny waved away the question. "Everything's fine, I just…I'm just really tired. All this work for O.W.L.S, Ron getting poisoned, Percy being a prat to Mum and Dad…I'm just stressed out I guess."

Harry understood that.

"Merlin, listen to me complaining," Ginny read his mind. "You've got more to worry about than anyone and you're not crying."

"Not at the moment," Harry smiled.

"When would you have time?" Ginny laughed. "You're too busy saving the world."

Harry rested his head against the sofa cushion, consciously aware of the small distance between his hand and hers on the floor rug. He was tempted to reach out and hold it to reassure her that things would get better.

"I'm not scared, you know." She broke into his thoughts quietly, turning her face to look at him. "Of Voldemort, I'm not scared. Not with you and Dumbledore here. You're probably the two most powerful wizards out there."

"Dumbledore is. I'm far from it." Harry shook his head.

"Dumbledore hasn't faced him as many times as you have."

"Voldemort's too smart to try, he's afraid of Dumbledore. He's not afraid of me."

"I disagree."

They sat in the quiet stillness of the warm common room, comfortable to sit without speaking.

"Hungry?" Harry asked.

Ginny looked up, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you going to take me on one of your rule-breaking adventures, Harry Potter?"

"Don't have to." He stood up suddenly and threw more fuel on the fire, bringing up the light in the room. Standing on the rug, he spoke into the vacant air.

"Dobby?"

Crack! The house elf appeared in an instant. Harry smiled. He hadn't been sure that it would work, since he wasn't Dobby's master, but he hadn't wanted to make use of Kreacher for this purpose.

"Harry Potter, sir," Dobby bowed. "You called?"

"Hey, Dobby, how are you?"

"Dobby is wonderful, sir. Would you like a report on—"

"No," Harry interrupted hastily, "no, not now. I was just wondering, if you weren't busy, if you could bring us something to eat from the kitchens."

Dobby's eyes lit up like Harry had given him a gift. "Not busy, sir. Dobby will have all the house elves get to work right away."

"That's not necessary. Could you just bring us something, a small snack?"

"I would be honored, Harry Potter." With another crack he was gone, and Harry returned to his seat on the floor, noticing Ginny's look of amusement. "What?"

"Your powers never cease to amaze me." She shook her head with a smile. Within seconds Dobby had returned with a large plate of cookies and some milk to wash them down.

"Perfect, Dobby. Thanks a lot."

"My pleasure, Harry Potter. Would you like anything else?"

"No, thank you. Ah…you can go."

With a final bow he was gone, and Harry and Ginny dug eagerly into the plate of cookies.

"Thanks, Harry," she said with a warm smile. "I really needed this."

Harry wished he could reply with something suave, like "Anytime, Ginny, I'm always here for you." Or something comedic and cute, like "I'll keep Dobby on retainer for your next stressful breakdown." But at that moment, with Ginny's eyes catching the light of the fire and locking on his, he could not think of a thing to say.

"You always know the right thing to do in every situation," Ginny continued thoughtfully, her comment barely a whisper in the quiet room. She contemplated him in silence, and Harry would have given anything to know what she was thinking. Ginny opened her mouth as if to say something but seemed to change her mind, looking away and filling the vacant space between her lips with a bite of cookie instead.

"What?" Harry wasn't going to let her go that easily.

"Nothing..." Ginny shrugged it off. "I...I was just thinking."

"Of...?"

"You," she turned back to him unexpectedly, almost smiling with flattering assurance. "You actually have the power to beat him." It wasn't a question, she honestly believed it. "Voldemort really doesn't stand a chance."

Harry didn't know what to say to that, thinking with some sense of amazement that Ginny was one of the few people he knew who actually used Voldemort's name. And, even more stunning was the fact that she did it without flinching.

Harry looked down as Ginny, for the briefest of moments, touched the back of his and with the tips of her warm fingers. Meeting his gaze, she smiled warmly before resting her head back on the edge couch cushion with a content sigh and closed her eyes.

**AN: Thanks to all who posted reviews so far. These were fun little snippets to write, things I always wished Rowling had expanded on just a little bit more in the books. I'm glad you all are enjoying them, I'm loving your comments! More to come soon...**


	6. Chapter 6

**Walk on the Grounds**

Pulling on his socks, Harry took his time getting ready the morning of the last Quidditch match. There was no hurry, he wouldn't be playing so what did it matter? He deserved much worse than continuous Saturday detentions with Snape, so he really had no right to complain. It was a miracle he was even still allowed to stay in school.

Felix had done a fine job helping him get the memory from Slughorn, it had even inadvertently broke Ginny up with Dean, but Harry's luck had run out. The Prince had failed him, his team had to play without him, and Harry had to endure Snape's sneering face week after week until the end of term.

Tying up the laces of his trainers, Harry stood up with a sigh of self-pity, leaving the dormitory to descend to a deserted common room. Everyone was already down in the Great Hall eating breakfast while eagerly awaiting the match. As he made his way down the staircase, Harry looked up to see Ginny hurriedly running down from the girl's dormitories, dressed in her Quidditch robes and looking flushed.

"Oh," she stopped short. "Hey, Harry."

"Hey," he stuck his hands in his pockets awkwardly, trying not to feel disappointed that she would be playing Seeker in his absence. "Good luck today."

"We'll need it without you," she smiled sympathetically.

"You'll do great."

Nodding, she turned to make her way down the rest of the stairs to leave for the Great Hall.

"Ginny," Harry called out, stepping forward. She stopped, looking back up at him, the cool morning sun shining off her hair, streaming through the window behind her. "I'm sorry," he said lamely, eyes downcast. "I messed up, I…"

"Forget it," she looked at him steadily. "Don't worry about us, you'll need more luck than we will," she smiled teasingly.

"Yeah," Harry tried to return the smile. "Still…I'm sorry."

"I'll bring you back the snitch," she promised, and with a final look, she was gone leaving Harry alone on the stair wishing he had said more.

But he didn't have to wait long. Suffering through the agonizing hours in Snape's office, sorting through the cutting reminders of his father's school history, Harry returned to the common room to take the step he should have taken months before. It was like a second dose of liquid luck, and the disappointment of missing the last match was forgotten during his long walk around the grounds with Ginny, his new girlfriend. Passing Hagrid's hut, she slipped her hand in his, and Harry felt the flutter of tiny wings against his palm. He looked down to see a shimmer of gold against the glare of the sun.

"I told you I'd bring it back," she beamed, eyes dancing.

"Are you even supposed to take these?" Harry teased, holding the excitable ball of gold up to look at it. She punched him playfully on the arm in disgust. Slipping the snitch in his pocket, Harry took her hand again and led her towards the lake to a spot near the edge under the shade of a great tree that had a comfortable crook at its base to settle into. Ginny snuggled in close, leaning her back against his chest. Harry put his arms around her waist, not wanting to let go now that he finally had her.

"Well it was about damn time, Potter," Ginny admonished with a smile. "What took you so long?"

"I had to wait for you to stop snogging Dean."

"I wasn't always with Dean."

"Oh right, can't forget Michael Corner."

"What about you?" Ginny turned her face towards him in defense.

"What about me?"

"You were with Cho."

"For, like, a day."

"Terrible track record, should I be concerned?"

Harry shook his head, pulling her back in close. "You've got way more on Cho. For one you don't cry when we kiss," he kissed her on the ear playfully.

"Who cries when they kiss?" Ginny wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"That's what I said."

"My mum is going to flip when she finds out."

"She loves me, she'll be thrilled."

"Exactly, she'll be planning our wedding by next week." There fell an awkward silence, and Ginny kicked herself for saying it. "I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean anything."

"Don't worry about it," he laughed. "Let her."

They sat looking out over the water in contented silence, Ginny playing gently with Harry's fingers entwined with hers.

"Dumbledore has a plan, right?" she asked quietly.

"I thought you weren't worried."

"I said I wasn't scared; worried is a whole different thing. I know you can't tell me everything, but he has a plan right? _You_ have a plan?"

"Yeah," Harry said slowly, looking over her head across the grounds and the tall mountain peaks in the distance. "I don't know all of it yet, but Dumbledore does have a plan. I'm just not sure how it will end…not exactly."

The sat without speaking for a while, watching the giant squid emerge a few metres off shore to float in the sun before disappearing under the glassy surface in a cascade of bubbles. "During the Triwizard Tournament," Ginny broke the silence, "I actually was kind of jealous of Ron for getting to go beneath the water, down to the mermaid village."

"It wasn't that great," Harry told her. "Kind of freakish actually. Plus Ron was unconscious the whole time, didn't get to see much."

"That's not what I was jealous about," Ginny admitted, grazing the smooth end of her thumb down his arm absentmindedly. "I just...I guess I wanted to be the thing that you couldn't live without."

Harry wasn't really sure what to say to that, his heart skipping an unexpected beat in his chest.

"I know I could never replace your best mate-"

"You'd never see me snog Ron in the common room like that," Harry pointed out, cutting her off, and causing Ginny to laugh.

"No, I don't suppose you would."

"Let's just say I'm glad the Tournament is over. They would have too many people of value to chose from now." Harry grew serious, no longer thinking about Ludo Bagman having to pick who among Harry's friends to hold ransom at the bottle of the lake. Too many loved ones of value...too many easy ways to get too Harry...

Ginny leaned back, craning her neck to look up at him. Harry quickly cleared his dark expression and covered it with a smile. "Want to walk some more?"

"Sure," Ginny sat up and allowed him to help her to her feet. Walking hand in hand, they wound their way around the sunlit grounds, taking their time and not even bothering to join the rest of the school in the Great Hall for dinner. There was better things to do than eat.

* * *

Harry didn't believe he had ever been happier. He didn't even feel like himself, lighthearted even while trudging through the tedious hours with Snape on Saturdays. During one of his free periods between lessons, Harry took a walk down to Hagrid's, returning with a handful of tiny purple wild flowers. Inspecting them first for ferocious tendencies, not quite trusting anything that grew so near the Forbidden Forrest, Harry took them back up to the castle with him, tucking them inside his robes until he found Ginny with Ron and Hermione in the court yard. Sneaking up behind her, he pulled them out and presented them to her.

"Well, aren't you sweet?" she teased, obviously pleased, taking the flowers with a grin.

"Bloody hell," Ron groaned. "Flowers, Harry?"

Harry held up a middle finger at his friend with a grin.

"Potter!"

Harry jumped at Professor McGonagall's shrill voice from across the yard. "Don't let me ever see you use that vulgar muggle expression on school grounds again, or it will be detention, do you hear?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry responded, waiting until her back was turned to hit Ron on the side of the head.

"Ouch," Ron rubbed his sore ear. "Fine friend you are. You sure you want to date him?" he asked Ginny.

"After hitting you?" she raised an eyebrow, "definitely."

Ron just rolled his eyes as Harry and Ginny kissed goodbye, preparing to go there separate ways to class.

"Get used to it, Ronald," Hermione shook her head with a smile. "You're sister is in love with _The Chosen One_." She teased, but Harry wasn't even listening, too intent on watching Ginny walk away.

"What?" he returned to the present, looking lost. "Yeah, Hermione, I finished that essay last night."

"More like _The Enamored One_," Ron grumbled ungraciously. "Oi! Let's go before we're late. Harry got McGonagall riled up enough already."

Taking Harry by the arm and holding back behind Ron a few paces, Hermione passed him a knowing smile. "I think it's sweet," she told him. "And about time too."

"Yeah," Harry couldn't help but return the grin. "Probably should tone it down a little in front of him though," he nodded ahead toward Ron.

"After Lavender?" Hermione pointed out incredulously. "I think he deserves it a little."

Harry didn't deny she was at least a little bit right. "In that case you should be the one snogging one of Ron's siblings," he reasoned. "I hear Percy's available."

"Shut up, Harry!" Hermione hit him playfully.

"That would have an affect on Ron, wouldn't it?" he laughed.

Hermione could only shake her head, repressing a smile. "I don't know _what_ you're talking about."

They reached the Transfiguration classroom passing through the door where Ron waited holding it open. "What's with you two?" he demanded with confused furrowed eyebrows.

"Nothing," Hermione replied quickly.

"Just...talking about Percy," Harry shrugged humorously.

Ron made a face, following into the room with a disgusted mutter, "Prat."


	7. Chapter 7

**Loses and Gains**

Outside the dormitory window, the early afternoon sun glinted over the surface of the lake. Hedwig ruffled her feathers from her perch on the side table next Harry's bed. The bedding had been rolled away for another year, the curtains drawn back with dust filtering through the rays of sun through the dirt smudged windows. The others had already taken their trunks down to the common room to await the trip back to the Hogwarts Express.

Harry stood by the window gazing without seeing out onto the grounds. There on the lawn they had held Dumbledore's funeral just that morning, and just weeks before Harry had been walking with Ginny, obliviously happy, unaware of what would come. Closing his fist tightly around the cold casing of the locket that had cost him so much, Harry wiped away a few unbidden tears. A tightness welled up in his chest, threatening to choke him with rage. He wanted to go, right then, disappear and not return until he had hunted down that murdering traitor and killed him himself. He couldn't think about horcruxes or any plan for an end anymore. Dumbledore hadn't anticipated this; he couldn't expect Harry to just keep on after watching Snape kill him in cold blood.

Even as he thought it, Harry knew he was wrong. Dumbledore would want him to stick to the plan, no matter what changed or got in the way. Find the horcruxes and destroy them, that was the key to ending it all.

Pulling himself away from the window, Harry put Hedwig in her cage and locked his trunk. Looking around the empty dormitory that had been his home for six years, Harry knew it would be the last. School wasn't an option anymore. There were more important things than lessons and Quidditch games.

Dragging his trunk downstairs he moved through the crowd of congregating students, dressed and ready to leave on the last morning of term. He left Hedwig and his trunk with all the others piled and ready to be transported to the train, noticing Hermione and the others watching him from where they stood near the notice board. He caught Ginny's eye but looked away quickly, moving towards the portrait hole and ignoring all the stares from around the room.

"Hey!" Ginny called out, pushing the portrait door open behind him after Harry had stepped through into the hall. "No way, Harry," she admonished fiercely. "This is not how it's going to work. You don't get to decide just to not talk to me anymore." Harry stopped and turned, watching her without speaking. "I get your noble intentions, but it doesn't mean you get to be an ass."

"I'm not—"

"Shush," she snapped, putting up a warning hand. "I am still your friend, just like Ron and Hermione, if not more so. Treat me like one."

Harry hung his head, looking away.

"This is hard for me too, okay? But let's at least try to act normal."

Ginny was struck by the pained look on his face from the effect of her words. Normal? How could he possibly act normal around her anymore? He had done the right thing, breaking it off. Harry knew that, but it was the best and worst decision he had ever made.

"Look," Ginny softened her tone and took a step forward, cutting the distance between them and placing a gentle hand on his chest. "I know we can never just go back to the way things were, but please...just don't shut me out, okay? It's going to be hard enough..." her breath caught in her constricted airway, and Ginny willed herself not to cry. She didn't want Harry to see her wavering emotion. She had already expressed her confidence in his abilities as a wizard and didn't doubt them in the least. But she also didn't want him to know how just scared she was now that Dumbledore was gone.

Harry reached up and gently touched her face, lifting her chin so their eyes met before brushing away a single tear that insisted on falling down her cheek. Never before had he wanted her as fiercely as he did at that moment. "Don't take this the wrong way, but-" he said before moving in and locking her in a passionate kiss, easing his arms around her slim waist and holding her tight, not wanting to ever let go.

Eventually he had to, breathing her in so as not to forget how if felt to be so close. "I'm sorry, I just had to-"

"Shut up, Harry," Ginny cut him off, her eyes still closed from the kiss as is she too were committing it to memory. "Don't ever apologize for needing me," she opened them then, emphasizing her words by the intensity of her gaze. "I need you too. I need you to stay alive. I need you to promise-"

"I can't," it was Harry's turn to interrupt. "I can't promise you that I'll come back, Ginny. I wish I could, but-"

"That's not what I was going to say," she shook her head, tightening her grip on his arms slightly. "I need you to promise not to forget me. Do what you have to do...just don't forget me."

Harry returned her gaze, hating the fact there was a reason for her bravery and loving her even more for the steadiness of it at the same time. "I couldn't," he told her honestly. "I won't."

Ginny nodded, finally able to pass him a small smile. "And just so you know...while you're away, this place will not be idle."

Harry raised an eyebrow, not quite sure what she meant.

"If I have to be stuck at school next term while you're out saving the world, I'm damn sure not going to sit around on my duff. You'll have support in Hogwarts, Harry. Just like Mum and Dad and the Order. Ron and Hermione...everyone supports you."

"Not everyone," Harry corrected her. "That's sort of the problem."

"Then go fix it," Ginny responded bluntly, stepping back and letting go. Harry found her hands for one last touch before releasing them, his own hands feeling empty in her absence. There was more that he wanted to say, but he didn't know how, and time was running out.

"We should go," Ginny glanced from the portrait of the Fat Lady and back to Harry, waiting expectantly. "Walk with me down to the train, Harry," she insisted. "You will not leave me alone with Ron and Hermione. They've already had an argument over which compartment to sit in." Ginny rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Maybe we could leave them here for the summer," Harry suggested.

"I know of a secret chamber we could put them in," she held back a smile.

"Brilliant." Harry can't help but grin, pulling her in for a friendly one-armed hug while she gave the password for re-admittance into the common room. Ron and Hermione looked relieved to see them together, acting natural and even smiling. Ron still looked a little uncomfortable with the idea of Harry acting so familiar with his sister, scowling a little at the sight of the two of them arm-in-arm. Harry quickly dropped his and put some distance between himself and Ginny so as not to give the wrong impression. It wasn't going to be easy; his feelings hadn't changed in the least. If anything they had grown since his decision to break it off. But it was the right thing to do, he kept having to remind himself. Ginny meant too much to Harry for him to risk her safety. Maybe…just maybe if things went his way, he would finally be able to have the life with Ginny he had been dreaming about. In a perfect, Voldemort-free world which seemed so far away.

**Disclaimer: All characters and themes represented in this story were borrowed from author J.K Rowling who was in no way involved nor does she support this piece of fanfiction work. I was honored to be able to borrow her world for a little while, and thank her for creating it.**

**AN: Thank you for reading and leaving such great reviews! I had so much fun writing this and look forward to creating more HP fanfic in the future. There is always more room for Harry/Ginny scenes of romance as far as I'm concerned! Thanks again!  
**


	8. Chapter 8

******AN: I got some requests to keep this story going, giving more detail to the Harry/Ginny story before the Trio took off on their horcrux hunt. I aim to please, so here it is. Enjoy!**

**One Last Summer**

Harry sat on the edge of a bench in the garden at the Burrow beneath a night sky full of brilliant stars. In the east, the horizon appeared a pale gray in the early morning pre-dawn. Harry was exhausted but there was no way he would find sleep that night. It seemed that no one would, as the Burrow was still lit up with a warm glow of lights filtering through the open windows. Harry could hear the muffled conversation of the Order from where they sat around the kitchen table drinking mug after mug of steaming tea. Mrs. Weasley had suggested bed several times, but no one had moved. None but Fred who had excused himself for the sitting room to keep George company where he rested his wounded head on the sofa.

Harry leaned his own tired head in his hands, removing his glasses and rubbing his red-rimmed eyes. He was glad he was alone. It would be easy to pass off his grief as being a result of losing Mad-Eye, and it was, partly. But at that moment he was really thinking about Hedwig. It was stupid, really. Childish even, but Harry couldn't help it. All he could see when he closed his eyes was his beautiful snowy owl falling to the earth, dead. She would never fly to his shoulder and affectionately nip at his finger again. Maybe having witnessed it with his own eyes was what was making losing Hedwig harder to take then the loss of Moody. Simply knowing Mad-Eye was gone didn't make it any more real, and Harry just couldn't get his head around it.

"Harry?"

He looked up, wiping his eyes hastily and replacing his glasses to see Ginny standing to his right just outside the open door of the Burrow. "Hey, Ginny," he sat up straight on the bench, a little flustered. "I didn't know you were still up." He had known, actually, but didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah," she carried a cup of tea, handing it off to him before gently touching his side to get him to move over and make room for her on the bench. "Everybody is, except for George. He's sleeping on the couch still. I thought you might want some tea."

"Thanks," Harry took a small sip before setting the cup aside to let it cool. They sat in silence a moment watching the stars. A cool breeze lifted through the tall grass beyond the garden, sending a chill which caused Ginny to shiver. Her hand found Harry's in the semi-darkness and she entwined his fingers tightly with hers. It was a welcome gesture which Harry was too tired to analyze. The idea that he should keep up the charade of simply being friends with Ginny played briefly in his mind, but Harry ignored it. At that moment, he needed her hand in his more than anything in the world.

"It seems strange," she spoke suddenly, barely a whisper which only Harry could hear. "Mad-Eye gone… I keep expecting him to walk out of the mist, growling about being late."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "He'd go off on me for sitting out here alone though, exposing myself without anyone to watch my flank, or whatever."

"But, you're not alone."

He could hear the smile in her voice and squeezed her hand in return, grateful for every little thing about her. Remembering the urge which had come over him while standing in the Weasley's sitting room earlier that evening, he very nearly reached out and pulled her to a tight embrace. The sound of Ron's voice through the kitchen window overhead stopped him, however, and Harry pushed those thoughts out of his mind.

"How are you doing?" Ginny asked, looking at him in the dark.

"Fine," Harry shrugged. There wasn't much else to say about it; Mad-Eye wouldn't have wanted a load of mushy sentiment anyway.

"I mean about Hedwig," she understood him better than Harry thought.

"Oh. Yeah…I don't know…"

"She was a beautiful bird."

Harry and Ginny both were startled by the sound of Mr. Weasley by the door, Ginny immediately releasing Harry's hand.

"Very dedicated pet indeed," Arthur walked a few paces out into the yard, stuffing his hands in his pockets and thoughtfully scanning the edge of the garden with a trained eye for movement. "Ginevra, your mother is looking for you."

Ginny sighed heavily, glancing at Harry with an apologetic half smile before getting up and disappearing back inside.

"I understand your need to leave," Mr. Weasley turned to Harry once she was gone. "But I think you also understand our hesitancy to let you go."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Arthur was expecting it, putting up a hand to beg leave to finish. "It has nothing to do with your age or lack of experience. No one here thinks that you are not capable to carry on with Dumbledore's plans. No, not even Molly," he dispelled any disbelief Harry might have had on that count. "Our reluctance doesn't even fully stem from our love and care for you, Harry, although that is part of it. We worry, but mainly because of what we know. You-Know-Who grows more and more powerful by the day, and he will stop at nothing, will take down _anyone_ to get to you."

"Exactly," Harry jumped in heatedly. This argument had grown old, the discussion wearing thin. "That's _exactly_ why I must, Mr. Weasley. Moody is dead. If I had already been gone, he wouldn't be."

"You are underage, Harry."

"Yeah," he couldn't help but reply shortly. "I get that. Forgive me, Mr. Weasley, but I can't sit by and allow this to keep happening. I can't…I can't afford to lose anyone else." His eyes darted back toward the house and the voices still filtering through the open door.

Arthur nodded slightly, following Harry's gaze with a weak smile. "You know we discussed getting Ginny to convince you to stay. She can be much more persuasive than the rest of us."

_True,_ Harry thought, _but,_ "She would never ask me too."

Mr. Weasley nodded again, giving up and glancing at the stars with a sigh. "Indeed, she would not."

* * *

Harry was not sure what the purpose of sorting wedding gifts was, exactly. His only guess was to make room for more since there was already a growing mound, and Bill and Fleur's wedding was still a few days away. Making an effort to leave the room in a more organized state than it was originally, Harry and Ron completed their task as quickly as possible and left before Mrs. Weasley could strap them with another. Ron went in search of Hermione, but Harry begged off to step outside, hoping for a few undisturbed minutes by himself. The hectic, crowded feeling of the Burrow was beginning to get to him and he really needed a break. The Delacours were set to arrive in the morning which would only make things worse.

"Sneaking off are you?"

Harry jumped and turned at the threshold of the kitchen door. Preparing to apologize to Mrs. Weasley, he looked to find, not Molly, but Ginny walking in from the sitting room with a teasing grin on her face. "Bloody hell," Harry let out a breath of relief. "You sound just like your mother."

"I take offense to that," she crossed her arms defensively.

"Sorry."

"I'm messing with you, Harry. The impersonation was intentional. What are you doing, anyway?"

"Sneaking out," he raised a playful eyebrow of his own.

"Well, you better hurry then. Mum'll be back any second."

Harry considered something spontaneous. "Come with me."

Ginny's brown eyes squinted humorously, not quite sure if he was joking.

"Come on," reaching for her hand, Harry pulled her toward the door. "Quick, before anyone notices us leave."

Hesitating only a moment, Ginny glanced over her shoulder, ensured no one was watching, and followed Harry out into the garden.

The sun was high in the sky, hot on their backs as they jogged hand in hand across the yard before ducking into the protective shade of a cluster of trees several feet from the house. Descending a low bank, they jumped into a rocky-bottomed gully trickling with a persistent stream which curved slightly to the left and meandered off in the direction of the nearby village of Ottery St. Catchpole. Helping Ginny over the narrow creek, Harry crossed to the far side. Without releasing her hand, he slowed his pace with a content sigh. Under the dancing shadow of the wind-tossed tree branches, if felt like they had stepped into a private world of their own.

"You can breathe out here," Ginny was almost as relieved as he was. "We should just stay, never go back."

"We could run away," Harry played along with her game. "Just keep walking until we run out of places to walk."

"And then apperate to someplace new and start walking again."

"You can't apperate yet," Harry pointed out, poking her playfully in the side.

"You could take me with you," Ginny moved in closer with a smile.

"Anywhere," Harry stopped, turning and pulling her arms around his waist and resting his hands on the small of her back. This was all just pretend anyway, so he could live his fantasy for a moment and hold her like she really was his. "We could go to South America."

"I've always wanted to see Brazil."

"We could live in the jungle."

"And wear large hats."

Harry grinned, losing his train of thought slightly. "Right, large hats."

"Would you build me a bamboo house?"

"Do they have bamboo in Brazil?"

"I'm pretty sure," Ginny shrugged, resting her head against Harry's shoulder.

"Then I'll make you a bamboo house, with a garden."

"A gnome-free garden."

"Of course. And I'll make you breakfast with fresh fruit and…whatever else grows in Brazil."

"Perhaps we should go somewhere we know a little more about."

"Dover then," Harry jested, and Ginny looked up at him with an incredulous raised eyebrow. "Although I'm pretty sure there's no bamboo in Dover."

"Well, then that's out."

They both smiled, laughing lightly before Harry grew serious. Meeting Ginny's eyes, he brushed a stand of her long, red hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. "Dover would be paradise with you," he said.

"Too bad it doesn't exist."

"I think it does," Harry tried to keep the fantasy alive as long as he could.

Ginny stepped away, picking up his hand again but putting space between them. "Not for us." The walked a few feet in silence. Harry was sure that he heard someone call for Ginny back at the Burrow, but, if she heard it, the request was ignored. "I'm all happy for you, coming of age and all, but it's not exactly fair."

"It's not?"

"No, Potter," her voice took on a teasing inflection once again. "It's not fair. You and I are the youngest you see, Hermione and Ron already having turned seventeen and all. I felt a sense of camaraderie with you, both being underage yet."

"Camaraderie?" Harry was sure their feelings for each other were stronger than that.

"Yes," Ginny continued facetiously, "we are comrades you and I. Or at least we will be for the short time we have left until you abandon me for a life of magical freedom." Abandon was a poor word choice and the pained look which passed across her face showed her regret. Harry chose to ignore it, keeping the tone light.

"Well, forgive me Miss Weasley. I could deny my birthday if you'd like."

"I would actually, thank you."

"Done," Harry squeezed her hand. "For you, I'll stay sixteen forever."

Ginny stopped with a soft, half smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. Squinting up at the sun filtering through the trees she scanned the sky thoughtfully for a moment. Harry waited, wondering what she was thinking.

The smile slowly slipped into a struggling expression of sadness, and Ginny gave up. Releasing Harry's hand, she turned to re-cross the stream, turning back toward the Burrow. "And now, we return to reality."

* * *

The day of the wedding Harry sat inside the house, trying to stay out of the way and not be seen by all the hired hands. He felt a little restless, getting stuck indoors, but at the same time he was relieved to have some time to relax. Relax…that wasn't really the correct way to put it. Harry would feel a lot more relaxed if his mind wasn't on overload trying piece together the meaning behind Dumbledore's bequeaths in his will. _I open at the close…_ No matter how many times he read the words, they didn't make any more sense.

Putting the shiny gold ball to his mouth one more time, Harry held it there a second, breathing on its cool surface.

"Oh to be a Snitch," Ginny walked in from the kitchen, leaning against the fireplace surround with a playful etch of a smile.

Sitting slouched in a lumpy, quilted armchair, Harry dropped the hand that held the Snitch on his chest. He would have returned the jest, but was distracted by the way she looked in that dress, all done up for her part as bridesmaid in the wedding. He may have been the one to come of age, but it was Ginny who looked ten years older.

"It's impolite to stare," she raised an eyebrow.

"Then please forgive my rudeness," Harry wasn't about to stop.

"Let me see it," Ginny stepped forward, holding her hand out for the Snitch. Bumping Harry's feet aside on the footstool where he had them propped, she took a seat, squinting closely at the words which had appeared on the outside of the Snitch. "The close of what?"

"No idea," Harry shrugged, trying not to feel annoyed with Dumbledore for his cryptic sense of humor. Sitting up straight with his knees touching Ginny's, he took back the Snitch and watched the message fade with a frown.

"You'll figure it out," Ginny had more faith in him then he did. "Here," she reached for the slack strip of a bowtie around his shirt collar and deftly tied it for him, tightening the piece of black silk with comedic emphasis.

Harry coughed and attempted to loosen it a little in an effort to breath. "Thanks a lot."

"No problem." Ginny ran her fingers through her long, flowing hair. "You look rather dashing all dressed up."

"You don't look so bad yourself," he responded honestly. They sat inches from each other, and he was incredibly tempted to break his promise to Ron and kiss her one last time. Before he could argue a case with himself for doing so, the twins walked in with a bubbling cup of Polyjuice potion and a hair from the head of a redhead from the village.

"Open up, Harry," George gave Ginny a hand and helped her out of her seat, taking it in her absence and handing Harry the potion. "Time to transfigure into Cousin Barny."

Fred dropped the hair into the thick, gurgling potion, watching it turn tomato soup red with a disgusted grimace. "May Merlin preserve your soul."

* * *

Harry was glad to see that the hole in George's head hadn't inhibited his ability to attract females. Watching with some amusement at the twins disappeared into the dark with a pair of Fleur's cousins, Harry stepped out from the brightly lit wedding tent into the shadows of the perimeter. Glancing to his right, he was surprised to see Ginny standing there, her hands brushing her bare arms to keep them warm while she gazed up at the stars overhead. Her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the wedding celebration both her and Harry had just left.

"Hey," Harry walked up and got her attention, apologizing for startling her.

"That's okay," Ginny smiled. "Sneaking away from the excitement?" She glanced briefly back at the tight group of dancers at the center of the congestion in the tent.

"You could say that," Harry nodded. "You?"

"Had to," Ginny replied. "I would have passed out from the heat otherwise. Was that Fred and George I just saw?"

"With the veela cousins?" Harry asked. " 'Fraid so."

"Mum will be thrilled."

They both chuckled, Harry shoving his hands in his dress robe pockets to have a place to put them. Finding the Snitch deep inside, he squeezed it tight within his palm.

"It was a beautiful wedding," Ginny made light conversation.

Harry agreed, but honestly couldn't remember much from the ceremony, only her. He opened his mouth to say something, thinking he should excuse himself to go back to the party, but instead he found himself asking another question. "Would you…" he hesitated, knowing he was probably making a mistake. "Would you like to dance, just for one song? I know Ron—"

"Forget Ron," Ginny cut him off. "Ron likes to think he has more say about my life than he does. I appreciate his brotherly intentions, but I really don't give a damn what he thinks." Taking Harry by the hand, she led him a few paces further into the shadows so that they wouldn't be seen but could still hear the music.

Harry was grateful that it was a slow number, slipping his arms around Ginny's slim waist and drawing her into his shoulder. He did wish that he looked like himself and not some unknown ginger muggle. Ginny didn't seem bothered though, so he pushed that detail from his mind and breathed in her sweet scent of flowers and cool night air.

"I've never been to a wedding before," Harry admitted, glancing the window-like opening in the tent while slowly revolved in a tight circle. At that distance, the celebrating guests looked like a magically captured photo of ignorant bliss undisturbed. Something incorruptible and very detached from what Harry himself was feeling at that moment.

"Never?" Ginny brought him back to the present where only she existed.

"Nope," he shook his head, meeting her eyes glinting like moonlight on a dark pool. "Are they all this…"

"Pretentious?"

"I was going to say impressive."

"Yeah…my word's better. And no, not all of them. You have to take into account who the bride is."

"Of course," Harry smiled.

It was quiet a moment while they danced, Ginny drawing in close against his chest again. The music changed to a much faster tune but they just kept on at the same pace, not ready to let go.

"I can't imagine school without you…and Ron and Hermione," Ginny tacked on the last two as an afterthought. "Who's going to be Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor?"

"You will," Harry backed up a little so Ginny had to lift her head and look at him. She just frowned, unsure about that idea.

"Maybe…but I wish it was you."

"I do too," Harry admitted honestly. Ginny was the one person he felt he didn't have to put up a good front with. He wasn't looking forward to this horcrux search, and she knew it. "But you'll make captain, I'm certain. And you'll be the best Gryffindor has ever had."

"That sounds like a lot of pressure, thanks, Potter."

"That's what I'm here for," he meant it as a joke, but neither of them laughed.

"When are you leaving?" Ginny asked quietly, and Harry wasn't sure but it sounded like there was a small tremor in her voice as if she was already bothered by what his answer would be.

"Soon," he responded truthfully. He hadn't decided yet, but if Ron and Hermione were in agreement, Harry wanted to leave as soon as the wedding reception was over, even if it was late. Where they would go, he still didn't know.

Ginny accepted this with a nod, resting her chin back on his shoulder. "Just one thing," she insisted.

"What?"

"Don't leave without saying goodbye."

Harry brushed her back gently with his hand, holding her tight with a nod. That he could do.

Deciding they would be pressing their luck if they were away from the party any longer, they ended their dance and went their separate ways. Ginny wanted to go to the house a moment to drop off her shoes which were hurting her feet. Harry squeezed her hand briefly and let her go, returning to the tent in search of Ron and Hermione. A drunk relative of the Weasleys met him by the refreshment table, falling into Harry and exclaiming with some confusion that he hadn't expected him to be at the wedding. Panicking a moment, wondering if the Polyjuice potion had worn off, Harry stepped back from the rancid smell of the wizard's breath. It was only when the intoxicated relative called Harry his son did Harry relax, extricated himself from the man's grasp, and quickly moved away. Passing Charlie, Hagrid, and a squat wizard in a pork-pie hat singing a drunken tune, he made for a table on the other side of the tent.

Harry couldn't believe all that he had just heard from Auntie Muriel and a flustered Elphias Doge. He barely noticed Hermione slump into a chair beside him at the table, complaining about her feet and saying something about Ron getting them drinks. It wasn't until the reception tent was disturbed by the appearance of a shining, silver lynx landing in the center of the dance floor did Harry forget about Dumbledore.

Looking up in alarm, Harry's blood ran cold at the Patronus's warning echoing through the sudden silence. "_The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."_

Everything was a sudden blur as Harry and Hermione, wands drawn, scrambled to find Ron. Curses and counter-curses flew every direction. The tent was filled with screams and the sound of several disaaperating wizards fleeing in a panic. Ron appeared and, right before the three of them turned on the spot and vanished, Harry caught sight of Ginny through the chaos, wand drawn and surrounded by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, George, and Charlie all blocking jets of sinister lights with determined faces.

The next thing Harry was aware of was the confining squeeze of apperating before landing on a noisy crowded street in London. Catching his breath, he heard Hermione announce their location on Tottenham Court Road and command him and Ron to move. They needed to find someplace to change. Watching a double-decker bus ramble by on the busy street, Harry blinked away his last image of the Burrow from his mind, speaking low to himself with words swallowed by the compressing din. "Goodbye, Ginny."


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Here it is, the extension to the earlier chapters which will now be written in Ginny's perspective. I apologize that this chapter isn't that exciting, it's just a start for what will come in Ginny's sixth year while the Trio hunt horcruxes. I also must apologize that new entries will be slow in coming as I am working on some original writing at the same time. I will try and keep up as much as possible, hopefully adding a chapter at least once a week. Thanks for reading, enjoy!**

**Procrastination Put Aside**

The room was uncomfortably warm, but Ginny made no effort to get up and open the window. Sitting on her unmade bed with her back against the wall, she stared absently through the sun-drenched pane of glass with a hand resting on a stack of photos she had been sorting. Her bedroom was a mess of scattered items she was supposed to be packing in her trunk for the train ride to school the next day. Ginny had attempted to organize the pile of belongings but got no further than folding a few robes and tossing a book or two into the bottom of the truck. Trying to decide which pictures to include in the items she wanted to pin up in her dormitory, she had become distracted in her task after finding one particular photo. It had been taken last year, by a fellow Quidditch teammate during one of their strenuous practices. Ginny recalled that it was near the end because in the photo their uniforms were mud splattered and disheveled, their hair mussed and damp with sweat. Despite the exhausting drills Harry had put them through, everyone in the picture looked exhilarated, as if there was no place they would have rather been than on that drenched and chilly pitch as the sun was going down. Demelza Robins took the photo on the new camera she had received for her birthday and had given Ginny a copy once it was developed. She had said it was because it was a good keepsake of their time practicing on the pitch, but Ginny knew better. It was because, despite going out with Dean most of the year, Demelza knew how much Harry meant to Ginny. The picture was special because it captured a confident looking Captain Potter giving Ginny a lively high-five which ended in a quick embrace before he turned to a rather moody looking Ron on the side. The movement in the magical photo presented a detailed and pleasant expression on both her and Harry's faces, each flushed from the excursion of the flying exercises they had just finished. Ginny was tempted to cut Ron out of the picture, and maybe Katie Bell on her left as well, leaving just the two of them within the frame of motion. Drawing her eyes away from the window and out of her reverie, she simply placed the photo in with the others she planned on bringing to Hogwarts, deciding against editing anything for the time being.

Through her closed bedroom door, Ginny heard the sound of her mother calling for someone but the words were too muffled for her to make out who she wanted. Hoping it wasn't her, Ginny ignored the call and turned back to her packing. It had taken her days to get even this far, and it wasn't saying much. Molly was already irritated with her inability to do much more than sit around and stare out the window in a daze. But what did anybody expect? Ginny wasn't the only one who was worried, but that wasn't even the problem. It was the fact that she was stuck at the Burrow with nothing to do but _think_. It was driving her bonkers all this waiting and wondering without any word. Nothing but the little piece of news from Remus informing them that Ron, Harry, and Hermione had sought refuge at Grimmauld Place. That news was old now, and Ginny didn't even know if they were still there. If only she could travel on her own. Just one glimpse of him would set her mind at ease just a little. A glimpse of all of them; she just wanted to know they were okay after all that had happened.

More importantly, Ginny wanted to tell Harry about Snape. Maybe he had heard already. She didn't know if they had any access to the _Daily Prophet_. She did know that Harry had instructions from Dumbledore, whatever that meant. Ginny didn't think that included revenge on Snape, but the Headmaster also couldn't have known that his death would need to be avenged. And Harry was Harry, something Ginny knew _very_ well. She recalled his reaction when Snape was given the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, how would he feel now that Snape was given the Headmastership at Hogwarts? Certainly he wouldn't abandon his goal and head north for vengeance?

To be perfectly honest, Ginny almost wished that he would. Part of her time spent daydreaming out the window procured visions of Harry showing up at King's Cross on the first of September with that look of determination she loved and a plan to take down Snape as soon as the train reached Hogsmeade station. She would fight and so would Neville and Luna. The whole school would be on his side, except for maybe the Slytherins. They would reclaim the castle and set up a stronghold. The Order could provide backup, and Harry could send a pointed message to Voldemort. If he wanted him, he would have to come get him.

The image made Ginny smile for the first time in days. But it just wasn't possible. Harry would not be at the station because it wasn't Dumbledore's plan. And Harry would never stray from that plan, she was sure. Ginny just wished she knew what that was. It was frustrating that she wasn't of age yet. Just one year later and she would have left with Harry, her brother, and Hermione. She wouldn't have even cared what her parents thought about it. The last thing she wanted was to board that train the next morning and return to school when there was a war to fight elsewhere. She certainly wasn't going to sit around tossing kid spells with her wand all year. If Snape thought he was going to waltz in and take over after what he did to Dumbledore and have an easy time of it, he had better think again.

Molly called once more and, this time, Ginny was certain she was looking for her. There were heavy footsteps on the creaky stairs and a brisk knock at her door. Before Ginny could either deny or admit access, her mother peeked her head in, looking around at the mess with a trained eye. "Ginevra," she scolded. "I expected you to be further along in your packing."

"So did I," Ginny sighed with a frown, tossing aside her stack of photographs onto the crumpled quilt at the end of her bed.

"No more excuses now," Molly entered the room and began waving her wand, encouraging several items to fly neatly into the growing stack at the bottom of the trunk. "There will be little time in the morning to dilly-dally around. Now up! On your feet, let's get this packing settled then you can spend the entire evening staring out the window doing nothing." Molly's gaze fell on the Quidditch photo lying on top of all the others, and her expression softened slightly.

Patting Ginny's foot, she encouraged her to slide over a few inches before sitting down on the mattress beside her. The bed springs groaned and squeaked as she settled, her warm hand still sitting comfortably near her daughter's knee. "Lupin believes they are still at the old Headquarters," she told her softly with an encouraging smile. "He says he doesn't dare stop again to be sure, but the last time he checked several Death Eaters had been mulling around across the street watching the house. That can only mean they expect them to be there."

"Doesn't mean they are," Ginny pointed out moodily.

"No," Molly agreed, "but I think we would know if they weren't."

"But why?" Ginny asked. "Why would they just stay holed up there all these weeks? What are they waiting for?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Molly brushed a stray bit of hair away from her daughter's face. "Trust Harry, he knows what he's doing."

Ginny frowned again but nodded, knowing her mother was right.

"I expect when they make a move, we will know. Lupin and Kingsley are doing everything they can to keep an eye out. The Order is aiding them more then they even know." Molly reached for her wand again, flicking it upwards and sending a stack of clean laundry across the room into the trunk. "Finish up and then meet me downstairs." She stood, preparing to leave the room. "I'll have dinner ready in an hour, and I would like your help getting it on the table. Bill and Fleur are coming and, if your father got the message to them, Fred and George will be too."

Ginny smiled, knowing her mother had asked them all to come just for her. It would make it easier, for the last meal before term, not to have to spend it alone. "I'll be right down," Ginny even made an effort to move off the bed, catching her mother's incredulous raised eyebrow. "I _will_, I promise. I just have to pack the rest of these books."

"And your spare quills."

"Yes," Ginny picked them up off her desk so as not to forget.

"And your potions kit," Molly reminded her. "Do you have your scarf? Extra socks? Enough clean underwear?"

"Yes, _mum_," Ginny gritted her teeth in annoyance, taking the armload of items Molly handed off and dumping them all into the open trunk without ceremony.

"Ginny, dear, do be gentle. Fold those robes a little neater and do yourself a favor and make your bed for once."

"Why?" she grumbled. "I'll only be sleeping in it again tonight. I'll make it tomorrow before we leave," she added quickly after catching the scolding look on Molly's face. "Just go, I'll be down in a minute."

Molly paused at the door a moment, her expression changing from frustration to a kind of sadness only a mother can have when looking at their babies all grown up. Too soon Ginny was her last child to escort to Hogwarts. Her youngest and only daughter still had two years of schooling yet to finish, but it was all going so fast. And who knew, with a war surging ahead of them at full speed, would there even be a school to attend Ginny's seventh year?

Molly pushed the possibilities out of her mind, giving her head a little shake with a sigh and realizing that Ginny was watching her queerly.

"You alright, mum?"

"Perfectly fine, dear," Molly assured her. "Just hurry for dinner."

* * *

Arthur was late coming home from the Ministry so Ginny enticed George, Fred, and Bill to get in a little impromptu Quidditch out in the garden. She was dying to fly and used the early dusk as a means of persuasion to get Molly's permission. Ever since the wedding the Weasley's had been careful even around the Burrow. Things were different now and any little slip up could cost them their freedom. Molly was worried they would be seen flying by any of the villagers and muggle neighbors nearby. She was especially cautious with Ginny, not wanting there to be any mistake with her being underage an unable to perform magic. Bill reminded his mother that flying a broom didn't involve using a wand. Ginny wouldn't even be carrying hers while they played.

"Just keep near the garden then," Molly assented . "Don't fly too high, and—"

"Stop worrying, mum," George put a hand on her shoulder on their way out the door. "If we get into any trouble, we've got Ginny to protect us."

"You should be more worried about what she's going to do to us on the field."

"Damn straight," Ginny deadpanned, bypassing all three of her brothers with her broom over her shoulder.

"Watch your language, Ginevra," Molly tossed one last scold after them before they shut the kitchen door and headed out into the garden.

Bill was a little soft after loafing around on his honeymoon just weeks before. The twins were always full of energy, but they were experienced Beaters, not Chasers. So they were right in thinking they should be mindful of Ginny's skill. She wore them all out with her quick maneuvers and fast-paced playing style. At some point they gave up keeping score and simply focused on running drills, pushing Ginny to the limit just to see how much she could take. Fred and George used their wands to speed up the velocity of the practice ball, making it harder to see and even harder to catch. Bill created mid-air obstacles and environmental diversions in the form of gusts of strong wind and periodic spouts driving rain. Not exactly the magical low profile their mother had had in mind, but a fine way to prepare their little sister for her first year as Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.

"You're ready," Bill assured her proudly as they landed back on the ground after catching sight of Arthur walking through the garden gate. "Gryffindor will be unstoppable."

"Almost," Ginny muttered to herself whie combing her wet hair back with her fingers, her breath heaving in great gasps as her adrenaline pumped through her veins. _Almost unstoppable,_ she thought, _minus one unbeatable Seeker._ And this year it was her job to replace him. A job she wasn't looking forward to. A job that was near impossible.

"Come in and eat, children!" Molly waved them in from the yard.

"Did you hear that, Fred?" George picked up his broom.

"Children?" Fred raised an eyebrow. "I think our mother's going senile, George. No children here."

"Well, one child perhaps," George grinned in Ginny's direction with a nod. "I think mum's calling you, Gin. Better run for your supper."

"If coming of age means giving up mum's meals just to eat the way you two do every night, I'm just fine with staying a child. Last one to the table gets to wash the dishes." Playing off their confusion, Ginny got a head start and sprinted toward the kitchen door, bursting through the entrance with Fred and George on her heels. Pushing and shoving their way to the table, all three left muddy tracks on Molly's clean floor, dropping brooms and kicking soiled trainers off under their chairs.

"Honestly you three!" Molly exclaims, raising a pot of stewed cabbage over her head so as not to spill it in the commotion. "Behave, now! You are not toddlers."

"No, just children," Fred responded, reaching for the corned beef.

"Bill's last," Ginny grinned while plucking a roll from the basket on the center of the table. "He has to wash the dishes."

Bill sauntered in several steps behind the others, propping his broom near the coat tree and bending to peck Fleur on her pale, porcelain cheek. "That's okay, I can manage."

"'E will not have too," Fleur gushed. "I will wash them for 'eem."

"That takes all the fun out of it, doesn't it?" Fred leaned in near Ginny, speaking low and swiping the butter under her nose.

Ginny shared his opinion with a grin and dug into her meal with more vigor than she had all summer. If their little Quidditch exercise in the garden had done anything, it had given her new drive and even a sense of excitement for the coming year. With or without Harry, she would give her all both on the pitch and the classroom. Neither Voldemort or Snape could take away her strive for an education or love of the game. Watching Harry over the years had taught Ginny that a life could be lived even in the worst of circumstances. This year she would live just as any other. She would study, practice, learn, and even teach when called. She would do it for him because Harry was out there somewhere fighting for her, for all of them.

Finishing her meal quickly, she gave each of her brothers a quick hug and said goodbye. Taking the stairs to her room two at a time, Ginny rushed into her room and starting packing where she had left off. There wouldn't be much time to leave it all for morning. She wanted to get to the station early; she would need to find Neville right away.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: This chapter is a little longer and hopefully more interesting. I had to use my imagination on some parts, probably stretching a bit on the canon, but I hope it's close enough that it's not too much of a distraction. Enjoy!**

**Hogwarts Express**

There was a cloud of anxiety hanging in the usually hectic atmosphere at Platform 9 ¾. Never had Ginny experienced a Hogwarts Express boarding in such hushed and harried conditions. Where there had once been excitement and boisterous babble, now there was only rushed, murmured conversations between parents and students before hurrying to get settled on the train and out of the vulnerable expanse of the platform. Molly and Arthur were as nervous as any, if not more so. Ginny's father walked purposely through the barrier after his wife and daughter, pushing the trolley loaded down with Ginny's belongings and directing them with curt instructions toward the train. Maintaining an unreadable, stoic expression, he glanced only once at a set of dark robed, sinister figures standing watch a few feet away. Their wands were drawn and their shaded eyes scanned each face that boarded, training their gaze for any hint of Potter among the crowd of students. Ginny wasn't about to divert her gaze, lifting her chin and narrowing her eyes at the pair as Molly gripped her arm and steered her quickly past. She wasn't the least bit intimidated; did they honestly think he would show up at King's Cross carrying his trunk full of textbooks? How completely foolish; if that was the kind of intelligence they were up against it was a wonder the Ministry had ever been taken at all.

"Hurry, Ginny," Molly encouraged her forward as Arthur loaded her trunk onto the train. "I want an owl home every week. Send one as soon as you've reached school. Yes?"

"Yes, mum," Ginny refrained from rolling her eyes only because she wasn't the only one among her classmates receiving these instructions.

"Take care you mind the headmaster," Molly continued, catching the spark of flame which ignited in her daughter's eyes with the unreasonable request. Leaning forward and pulling Ginny in for one last hug, she spoke low in her ear with a warning. "Do it, Ginevra. No matter how tough, mind everything Headmaster Snape tells you. Don't make things harder for Harry than they already are."

_Harder for Harry?_ Ginny's jaw clenched furiously, watching the pair of brand new Ministry Law Enforcement recruits over her mother's shoulder with unbridled hatred. _How could resisting Snape possibly make things any harder for Harry than they already were?_ Keeping her burning thoughts to herself, Ginny merely nodded to settle her mother's fears, pulling away and reaching for a quick hug from Arthur.

"Train's about to leave," he placed a comforting hand on her head, attempting a smile. "We'll see you real soon."

"Don't worry, Dad," Ginny assured him. "I'll be safer at Hogwarts than anywhere."

Both Arthur and Molly nodded, all three valiantly trying to believe that was the truth.

With one last goodbye, Ginny waved and climbed the stair, stepping into the cool, low-lit corridor of the train car. Dragging her trunk behind her with Arnold the Pygmy Puff's cage perched on top, she looked into each compartment down the line until she found Neville sitting alone beside the window, hunched over a book.

"What're you reading, Neville?" Ginny pushed her way in without bothering to ask permission, knowing she could skip such niceties with Longbottom.

"Hi-ya, Ginny," Neville barely glanced up from his reading. His face was set in concentration. "Nice holiday?"

Ginny nearly laughed at the implied sarcasm. "Just dandy, thanks for asking." She set Arnold's cage aside before struggling with her trunk, hoisting it into the overhead compartment. Neville finally pulled himself away from his book, setting it in the open seat and rising to assist her until it was stowed away. The train lurched as it set into motion, leaving the station. The book dropped with a thud on the floor, and Ginny bent to pick it up, taking a seat where it had recently rested and reading the cover.

"_Morgan le Fay's Cunning and Combative Spells_," she read, raising her eyebrows at Neville as he returned to the bench seat beside her, taking back the book with a slightly guilty smirk.

"A little extra preparation doesn't hurt," he shrugged, tucking the worn volume back in his bag at his feet. "It's Gran's. She doesn't realize I brought it with me, but no matter."

"How did you even get it on the train?" Ginny couldn't help but be impressed.

"They haven't searched us yet, have they?" Neville pointed out. "That'll be at the school gates."

"And they won't exactly be thrilled you have it. One look at the title and you can say goodbye to Gran's dusty old book."

Neville merely shrugged again, sitting back in his seat and watching London flash by out the window. "No matter, I have most of it memorized anyway."

"Then why bring it at all? It will only get you detention the first day back," Ginny was a little surprised. Neville had gained some self-confidence their previous year of school, but nothing like what he was showing now. He almost appeared to carry a touch of Potter arrogance Ginny didn't know he possessed. "Snape will have you cleaning potion jars for a month, or worse most likely."

"Most likely," Neville agreed carelessly.

"Then why?"

He turned back and met her eye, a roguish grin catching at the corner of his mouth. "To set a precedent, of course."

Ginny nearly smiled herself, finding this new version of Neville fantastically un-Neville. "Of course," his confidence was catching, and Ginny was even more bolstered for her plan. "Brilliant logic, Longbottom, perhaps you could direct some of that toward an idea I've been considering."

"Only if it involves undermining Snape," Neville's jaw tightened, his gaze drifting back out the window, all humor gone suddenly from the compartment.

"Then we are on the same page," Ginny shared his contempt, always knowing she had an ally where he was concerned. Realizing something, she looked around as if looking for a missing item. "Where's Luna?"

Neville pulled himself out of his reverie. "Oh, she's here," he nodded toward a trunk overhead, plastered with brightly colored, psychedelic stickers. "She's making her rounds distributing issues of the Quibbler to the other compartments."

"Must have missed her," Ginny muttered, settling into the cushion with her feet propped on the opposite seat across the tight aisle. "There's less students this year," she pointed out conversationally. "And not just with—"

"Them gone," Neville knew. "Yeah, I think there will be more at school when we get there. Gran almost didn't want me taking the train either. She debated on it for all of two seconds then decided the best way to show the Death Eaters that we're not afraid was to go about business as usual. So here I am."

"Yeah, I think that was Mum and Dad's intention as well," Ginny thought about it. "They sure seemed nervous though."

"Who isn't?" Neville shrugged.

"Not me," Ginny said it almost to herself, defiant and self-assured.

Neville watched her with a nit brow, considering the declaration seriously. "Me neither." They smiled for real this time and the atmosphere lifted slightly. "So what's this elaborate plan of yours?"

"Let's wait for Luna," Ginny shook her head. "I want her to be a part of this too. And we'll need to recruit as soon as we see who is all at school, not to mention who will be on our side."

"Dumbledore's Army re-organized."

"Exactly," Ginny nodded. Her mind was reeling with ideas. She hadn't lived with Fred and George all those years without being influenced. If Snape thought Umbridge had it bad, he would not be prepared for what was in store for his upcoming reign. Ginny's parents weren't going to appreciate her antics but, unlike her brothers, she knew how to accomplish a task and maintain anonymity. Notoriety might have suited the twins, but in this case, Ginny would accomplish more for the cause if she could wreak havoc and stay in the shadows at the same time. That wasn't to say she wasn't prepared to take a little punishment for her intended crimes. Ginny was expecting some backlash but did hope to avoid it as much as possible.

"So how did it happen?" Neville interrupted her thoughts. "Mad Eye dying?"

"You heard about that?"

"Gran did. And we heard Snape took George's ear."

"Yeah," Ginny didn't want to be reminded of that. "Mad Eye got hit when Mundungus disapparated."

"Git," Neville said it exactly right, and, again, Ginny wondered at the change in him. They had all grown a little cynical after everything that had happened since Voldemort's return, but in some ways it made Ginny sad. No one was innocent anymore and they never would be again.

Although, if she chose to think about it, she never really had been. Not since the start of her magical education. The image of sixteen-year-old Riddle emerging out of that cursed diary made Ginny's blood run cold, and she had to push the thought from her mind, focusing back on Neville.

"Harry was all for leaving that night, just after everyone got back to the Burrow. I thought he was going to," she admitted. "I half expected we would find him missing the next morning. He was still underage though, otherwise I think he would have been gone."

"When did he leave?" Neville asked after nodding, understanding how Harry had felt.

"The night of Bill's wedding, when the Death Eater's showed up at the Burrow." Ginny let her own gaze drift out the window at the drab landscape whizzing past. Here was another memory she would sooner forget. She hated to admit that she had been terrified. Ginny would never tell Neville, perhaps not anybody, but in that frightening moment when the peace of the celebratory evening was disturbed, the wedding tent filled with the chaos of fleeing guests and dueling wizards, she had stood frozen. What was she supposed to do? Her gown had no place to keep her wand; she wasn't allowed to use it even if she had been carrying it. All she could do was stand there and stare at the place where Harry, Ron, and Hermione had just vanished. Her only feelings which had registered were that of panic and complete loss. It was Charlie who saved her from nearly being hit by a deadly curse. It had connected with a nearby table instead, sending an explosion of lacquered wood, bits of glass, and fragments of charred fabric flying all directions. Ginny had felt the sting of pain as a piece of shrapnel imbedded itself into her leg, just below the left knee. This had brought her back to life and she ran, stumbling and limping while surrounded by the protection of the twins who escorted her back to the relative safety of the house until it was all over. They had to endure a search; they were looking for Harry of course. They found nothing but the ghoul in the attic pretending to be Ron before being called away on some more urgent matter. Ginny had worried for days that that matter was Harry until Lupin sent word that all three of them were hiding out, safe at the old Order Headquarters in London.

"Where do you suppose he is now?" Neville once again brought Ginny back to the reality of the train compartment.

"Still in London, I think," she told him, not entirely sure. "At least we haven't heard otherwise."

"Doing what though?"

Ginny shrugged, "I don't know, but whatever it is, it involves the Sword of Gryffindor."

Neville looked confused, opening his mouth to ask a question before getting interrupted by the door opening from the corridor. Luna stepped in looking as dazed and pleasant as ever, seemingly unaffected by the general poor disposition of the other passengers on the Express.

"Hello, Ginevra," she passed Ginny a dreamy smile while taking a seat opposite and smoothing out her knee-length floral print skirt.

"Hello, Luna, how are you?" Ginny generally didn't permit anyone other than her family to call her Ginevra, and sparingly at that, but Luna…Luna was always an exception.

"Oh, I'm wonderful. Although I will have to send an owl to my father immediately after we reach the castle. The demand for Quibblers has gone up; I've given out every last copy with several requests for more. Daddy will be thrilled!"

"Well, he's the only one printing what matters," Neville agreed. "I imagine it would sell out."

"The Quibbler strives to only ever print the truth," Luna responded earnestly. "That's daddy's policy."

"Of course," Ginny nodded, as if that was obvious, sharing a humorous glance with Neville who was kind enough to keep a straight face.

"Well, tell your dad we appreciate all he's writing about the Ministry and the support he's showing Harry," he told Luna. "My grandmother won't subscribe to anything else anymore, not even the _Prophet_."

"Neither do my parents," Ginny added.

"But—" Neville turned back to her. "You were talking about the sword?"

"Excalibur?" Luna perked up.

"Close," Ginny held up a finger, prepared to lay out her plan now that both of them were present, "the Sword of Gryffindor. I don't know why but I'm certain that whatever Harry is doing, the sword has some connection."

"Why?" Neville asked the question he had been holding on to since Luna joined them in the compartment.

"Because Dumbledore left it to him in his will."

The news had the effect that Ginny was looking for. Neville's eyebrows went up and Luna's abnormally large eyes grew even wider. "Oh," was all she said, softly and with less surprise than excitement.

"Harry has the sword?" Neville asked, and Ginny shook her head.

"They wouldn't give it to him, said it belonged to Gryffindor house."

"Harry's a Gryffindor," Neville argued. "He should get the sword."

"The Ministry didn't agree, obviously, but I do. We need to get that sword." This time Ginny's announcement received only stares, Neville appeared unsure if he had heard her quite right. Luna just looked thrilled at the prospect.

"Break into Dumbledore's office?" Neville's voice went up an octave with disbelief.

"Oh, didn't you hear?" Luna interjected. "Professor Snape is headmaster now."

"How do you propose we do that?" Neville ignored her, inquiring an explanation from Ginny. "The entrance is password protected. It could be any number of passwords since Snape took over."

"Dumbledore," Luna spoke matter-of-factly, blinking her wide eyes expectantly.

"What about him?" Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"Dumbledore," Luna repeated. "It's the password to the headmaster's office. 'Dumbledore.'"

Neville and Ginny exchanged an incredulous look. "What?"

"It's well known that when a witch or wizard dies while serving as headmaster the password to their office becomes their name for the ensuing year. It is a precaution against any delays or confusions in the replacement process." Luna blinked, waiting for a response as if she felt as if this was enough of an explanation. When neither Ginny nor Neville responded she gazed serenely out the window and continued lazily. "You know, in case there are disagreements on who should be headmaster, substitutions, or short-term fill-ins. It safe-guards against one witch or wizard changing the password to deny others access out of spite. The password precautionary spell was put into place after Headmaster Vindictus Veridian died in 1703. The transfiguration instructor, Bennet Oliver considered himself a more suitable headmaster than Veridian's replacement, Marley Bloom. He was banished from the castle because of his eccentricities, but not before closing off the headmaster's quarters with a number of complicated spells and obscure passwords. It took Bloom eight months to regain entry to his own office."

Ginny wasn't sure whether or not this was just another of Luna's characteristic, quirky tales or actual fact. Since she had never read _Hogwarts, A History_ all the way through, she really couldn't verify for certain. "Well, it's worth a shot," she shrugged. "We'll try it Luna, and I hope your right, because my idea to get the password was much more complicated."

"How so?" Neville asked, glancing up as the compartment door slid open and the Honeydukes Express arrived pushed by the trolley lady. He got to his feet and dug into his pocket for some gold, buying several chocolate frogs and Cauldron Cakes for them to share. When the trolley had moved on and the door closed, Neville tossed a few sweets at Luna, dumping the rest on the seat between him and Ginny. "How would you have done it?" he repeated his question, breaking into a Cauldron Cake.

"Well," Ginny picked up a chocolate frog. "Let's just say it would have involved a lot of spying and hanging around the third floor corridor with a pair of Extendable Ears with the likely possibility of being caught by Snape."

"'Dumbledore' it is then," Neville agreed.

The door opened again and the three looked out into the corridor to find Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. "Neville!" Seamus sounded excited to see his fellow seventh year, but the expression only reached as far as his voice. The rest of him looked as on edge as everyone Ginny had seen on board the train. If Seamus looked uneasy, Dean looked worse, and Ginny passed him a sympathetic look as he entered the compartment and shut the door behind him.

"Ginny," he nodded and sat down beside Seamus across from her. "Doing okay?"

"Fine," she nodded in return. "You? I actually didn't think you would be here."

"I almost wasn't," he told her honestly. "Seamus convinced me to come. You've heard the rumors then?"

"Not just rumors," Ginny said. "Dad told me they were already bringing people in at the Ministry, demanding they prove their Blood Status."

"They won't do that at Hogwarts," Seamus was sure. "Not even Snape would do that, would he?"

"It's Snape," Neville pointed out.

"Anything's possible," Ginny agreed, still watching Dean. "Aren't you worried?"

"Let them check," he shrugged. "I don't care."

Ginny knew Dean well enough to know when he was putting up a front of confidence that wasn't altogether truthful, but she let it slide, hoping for his sake that there really was no reason to worry. For the rest of the trip they discussed Harry's need for the sword and what that could mean. Ginny filled Dean and Seamus in on the events of the summer at the Burrow and her plans to get a hold of the sword for Harry. They threw out ideas of how to best hide it, if and when they managed to steal it from Snape's office. Then there was the matter of smuggling it out of the castle without being spotted. Another problem, but Ginny knew that once they did she could rely on Bill or one of the twins to meet her in Hogsmeade and take it from there. Somebody would know where to find Harry and get it to him, she was sure.

As the train drew closer to the station and darkness fell in the mountains, Seamus and Dean ducked out to return to their own compartment to put on their robes and gather their things. Ginny, Luna, and Neville did the same and, by the time they reached Hogsmeade, Ginny was tired and hungry. Her mind was reeling with all they had discussed and planned, but all she wanted at that moment was to get to the castle, enjoy the feast as best as she could, and retreat to Gryffindor tower for an early retirement.

What she wasn't expecting was to walk upon a group of gruff faced cloaked figures standing guard by the horseless carriages, barring any way through until each student had been inspected and questioned.

"Ginny," Neville stopped short, his exclamation coming out in a hoarse whisper. "Ginny!" he grabbed her arm tightly, slowing her down. "They're checking for Blood Status." Just as he said this, Ginny saw a first year dressed in brand new robes, standing in the shadow of a trunk twice her size with tears running down her pale cheeks while she watched her wand get snapped in two by a surly looking Death Eater. A wand the young girl would never get to use.

"Dean," Ginny's heart pounded as she whipped around and searched the slow moving crowd pushing out of the open train doors. Spotting him two cars away, she shoved her way through, desperate to get to him before he could make it to the front of the queue for the carriages. "Dean!" she clamped onto the sleeve of his robes, turning him around. "Go, apparate now."

"What?" he looked up in alarm, catching sight of the row of Death Eaters.

"Go! You need to leave now, they're confiscating wands. Now, Dean!" Ginny pushed him back a few feet, into the shadows of the train, hoping to keep him from being spotted. Seamus hesitated with a hand on his trunk, torn between wanting to go with his friend and not knowing what to do. Dean didn't give him time to consider it, pulling his wand from his pocket and turning on the spot, disappearing from the platform and leaving his own trunk behind.

"Why didn't they tell people?" Neville wondered, encouraging Seamus to keep moving with his voice low near Ginny's ear.

With her blood boiling, pounding through her veins at the injustice of it all, Ginny's jaw clenched in fury, her eyes flashing under the orange glow of the hanging lanterns outside the station depot. "My guess is they did, but not everyone is paying attention to the announcements in the _Daily Prophet_ anymore, are they?"

"Especially muggles," Neville nodded bitterly.

"They should have told them," Seamus looked as heated as Ginny. "They should have warned them in Diagon Alley when they purchased their wands."

"Maybe Ollivander didn't know." Ginny didn't understand it either, but felt sick with rage. What was that little first year and all the other misplaced students of muggle heritage supposed to do now? Would they send them back on the train to London? Who would notify their parents? Did they even care? One thing Ginny did know, as soon as she reached the castle she would track down Professor McGonagall and ensure that something was done about it.

"Blood Status?" a witch with a prominent, angled nose on a long, thin face demanded she present her wand when Ginny reached the front of the queue. "Family name and place of residence."

"Ginny Weasley, full-blood, Ottery St. Catchpole , Devon, England."

"A muggle village?" the witch looked less than pleased while checking her list of names on a long, curled piece of parchment.

"Yes," Ginny responded a little too defensively. "My family lives at the Burrow nearby."

"Youngest child and only daughter to Pure-Blood Wizard Arthur Weasley?" the witch demanded.

"Yes."

"You may pass, move along to the next available carriage and await transport to the school."

Ginny yanked on her trunk and moved out of line, glancing back as Neville and Luna stepped forward to state their case for acceptable wizard status. Seamus was already through, standing looking lost without his best friend at his side. "Come on," Ginny encouraged him. "Let's find a carriage."


	11. Chapter 11

**New Order**

Speaking with Professor McGonagall was not the first thing Ginny was able to do upon reaching the castle. First was check-in, a new policy of the Snape regime where Ginny and her fellow classmates were introduced to their new Muggle Studies and Defense Against the Dark Arts instructors. Amycus and Alecto Carrow, a brother and sister pair of corrupt Dark Lord supporters whom Ginny could not believe ever weaseled their way into teaching positions at Hogwarts. Short and stalky with pig-like faces and snarling dispositions, they stood at the open gates of the school stopping each student for the second time. This wasn't a Blood Status checkpoint, but a search. Each trunk was forced open with a flick of one of the Carrow's wands, every item flying out onto the lawn for everyone to see. If a trunk passed the test, everything flew back into a disorganized pile and the student was admitted, climbing back into their carriage to await transport to the front doors of the castle. If any questionable items were discovered, the Carrows pulled the guilty student aside with an ungracious shove and made them gather up their own belongings before being ordered to stand in the dank air under the forest trees to await inevitable punishment.

Ginny's trunk was inspected before Neville's, and she was commanded to return to her carriage with her belongings just as Alecto, the beastly looking sister dug through Neville's bag and withdrew the spell book he had been reading on the train. "What's this, eh?" she snarled. "I don't recall this being on the approved textbook list, was it now?" Shoving the book under Neville's nose, she gripped his arm with a claw of razor sharp, yellowed nails, dragging him forward a step to get his complete attention. "What's yer name, boy?"

"Neville," Ginny heard him say tightly.

"Neville wot?"

"Neville Longbottom."

"Ah," Alecto's eyebrows went up in a ghastly sneer. "Of course you is, Longbottom, of course you is. Shame about your parents. They tried to be smart, reading books like these and gettin' notions and such. We aren't goin' ta have that same problem with you, are we Neville? Are we Neville?" her threat dropped to an ugly tone as her grip tightened on his arm.

Neville winced but met her eye, not about to cower. "That depends on you, Professor," he responded, loud enough for every student within listening range could hear.

Alecto's eyes darkened, narrowing with hatred. Shoving Neville toward the line of growing offenders repacking their trunks off to the side, she sent his belongings flying after him, the heavy book bag hitting Neville hard in the shoulder before dropping and spilling all over the ground. "Next!" Alecto screamed. "Move this carriage along!"

Ginny wanted to jump out of the moving vehicle to run to Neville's aid or, better yet, hit Professor Carrow with a bat-bogey hex, anything but sit there helpless like she was. Half standing in her seat, she simultaneously felt Luna grab her arm and caught Neville's discreet shake of the head, begging her to stay put.

"I am starving, aren't you?" Luna held tight to Ginny's elbow, smiling broadly and chatting about her favorite dishes served up at the castle. She couldn't hide the slight tremor in her voice, however, and it is this that grabs Ginny's attention, returning to her seat. She had never known Luna to be scared of anything. Not even while being chased by Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. But Ginny couldn't blame her. Riding into the grounds up to the stone cold steps leading to the front entrance of the castle, there was nothing warm or inviting about it. This wasn't Hogwarts anymore. It was a prison.

Professor McGonagall was waiting at the top of the entrance steps when the line of carriages pulled up to the castle. Not usually one to present a particularly sunny disposition, McGonagall looked especially grim that evening. Despite this, Ginny rushed to leave her trunk with the growling pile at the bottom of the stairs and pushed her way through the slow moving crowd to reach the Head of Gryffindor House, eager to speak with her before entering the Great Hall for the feast.

"Professor!" she called out, slipping through a tight group of fourth year Ravenclaws. "Professor McGonagall, can I—"

"Not now Miss Weasley," McGonagall stopped her, appearing to know what Ginny was about to ask before she even managed to spit it out. "Get inside please, join your housemates at the table."

"But—"

"If I have to tell you twice it will be detention," McGonagall threatened with little to no malice in her voice. Indeed it wasn't anger in the Professor's sharp gaze, but a hint of anxiety, and Ginny stopped, meeting her gaze and nodding finally before moving on through the open doors of the school. It was foolish of her to even consider it. Of course the teachers were aware of the situation down in Hogsmeade, but what power did they have now? That first year should have never been on the train, or any of the others that managed to make it that far. It was a cruel joke, not getting word to all the hopeful muggle children; someone should have ensured it didn't happen. Ginny only hoped that McGonagall's knowledge of it meant that something would be done to ensure those unfortunate children returned home safe. The Order would be able to do something, she was certain. The possible alternative made Ginny's stomach clench.

The Great Hall began to fill as each House filtered in from the hall and took their seats. There was a heavy denseness to the air Ginny could only liken to an electric current. The room was full with a kind of buzzing as students conversed while trying to keep their voices down. Gone was the usual feeling of joy and excitement for the start of another year. There was no calling from across tables to people of differing houses, no attempted horseplay or relaxed chatter. Other than the nervous undertones of speculation and confusion, there was little more sound than the scrape of benches on the floor and the rustle of crisp robes. Names of missing classmates were passed around like a fragile glass vial, listed in whispers as if speaking them out loud would cause them to shatter. Though the magical ceiling overhead showed the sky to be clear with crystal stars hanging heavy like a glittering shroud, the atmosphere inside the Great Hall could be compared to a compressed electric storm before it explodes.

Ginny felt herself break out in an uncomfortable sweat, taking a seat beside Lavender and Parvati who both popped up from a strained conference over their empty plates on the table.

"Ginny," Lavender acknowledged her with a hoarse whisper. "We weren't sure if you'd be here."

"Why not?" Ginny asked with more volume, sounding strangely loud amid all the hushed conversation.

"Because…" Parvati and Lavender exchanged a nervous glance, "because you're _You-Know-Who's_ girlfriend."

"Um," Ginny raised a confused eyebrow. "No, the Dark Lord isn't really my type, actually."

"No," Lavender pressed, glancing quickly at the empty High Table where the teachers and headmaster had yet to gather for the feast. "I'm talking about _Harry,"_ the name was pronounced under much stress and barely audible.

_"Obviously,"_ Ginny mimicked her tone with heavy sarcasm. Since when had things become so distorted that they weren't allowed to use Voldemort's name at all and couldn't mention Undesirable Number One without flinching? Soon the distinction between who was the actual wizard to fear would be a blur, and Ginny couldn't help but be annoyed. This was ridiculous; she wouldn't spend her entire sixth year in mortal fear, watching every word she said, and it wasn't right that anyone else should act so gutless. This was Harry they were talking about. Lavender and Parvati had gone to school with him for six years, Parvati had attended the Yule Ball with him in their fourth year. Not even the reign of Snape should destroy such familiarity.

"Yes, you are talking about Harry," Ginny reprimanded them. "He has a name, you know it well, so use it."

Both girls lost a little color in their stunned faces, but Ginny's determination was catching, and Lavender and Parvati nodded. Mustering up her courage and refraining to glance around at the High Table a second time, Lavender started over. "Why are you at school?" she asked. "We thought for sure you would be with…with Harry, wherever he is," she finished quickly.

Ginny wondered the same thing herself. Why was she here? It was a question she couldn't stop asking even though she knew the answer quite well. "I'm underage," she shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "I wouldn't have been much help, not able to do magic and all."

"So where is he?" Parvati asked, wide eyed.

"I don't—" Ginny was interrupted by the sound of heavy doors clanging shut at the back of the hall. All heads turned to look upon the Carrows as they marched their dejected crew of possession offenders away from the doors, commanding them all to take a seat at their separate house tables before the brother and sister duo stalked off toward the High Table.

Neville made his way over, sitting down on the other side of Ginny while she stared with a frown at the long, red welt running down his right cheekbone. He merely shrugged her off, wincing only a little at the pain. "I may have mouthed off a little," he admitted. "They don't care for that, these Carrows."

"I wouldn't think so," Ginny muttered, turning in her seat to give her attention to the front of the hall. Most of the teachers had assembled now, the only empty chair that of the headmaster's; Snape had yet to make an appearance. "What's taking so long?" she grumbled. "I'm starving." She wasn't really, it wasn't possible that anyone could have an appetite under those oppressive conditions, but she did want the feast to get underway. The sooner it started, the sooner it would end and she could go to bed. The endless, trying day had long since been getting the best of her.

It was several more minutes of strained waiting before the doors to the outer hall opened once again, and Professor McGonagall appeared. Trailing in her wake were the small group of first years who had survived the Blood Status check. Half of them carried a self-assured manner which Ginny tended to associate with Slytherin House residents. She expected to see McGonagall lead them toward the High Table to set down the stool where the students usually sat while being sorted by the Hat. Instead, Ginny was surprised to see, the Professor turned unexpectedly and addressed the first years before they even reached the end of the line of House tables.

"First years," she spoke, "please move in a quiet and orderly fashion to your separate House tables and have a seat."

The group did as they were told, hardly making a sound.

A small, hushed murmur shivered down the lines of tables as the older students looked at one another for an explanation.

"No Sorting?" Neville looked as confused as Ginny felt. "What happened to the Hat?"

"It appears," she frowned, "that they've sorted them in private."

"But why?" Lavender asked.

"To silence the Hat, of course," Ginny explained sardonically and looked around the room, seeing Professor Snape for the first time as he rose from the shadows like the great bat that he was, taking his place behind the headmaster's podium. Cautious reverence sucked the sound from the room like a vacuum, and the Great Hall was still, waiting for him to speak.

Snape scowled down his greasy nose at the sea of faces set before him with his dark, black eyes. "It is the start of a new year," he began, "a new beginning for the race of the Wizard. You have all been chosen," Snape peered at each table in turn. "Selected to learn the noble and honorable practice of magic passed down from your ancestors and kept sacred, though not always pure. The tide has turned," his face lifted with a sense of pride, his voice echoing off the stone walls and reverberating in the rafters. "Plans for a better society are coming to fruition and each of you are part of that plan. It is your responsibility as the chosen future of our world to act upon your calling and fulfill your duty.

"A new curriculum begins this term. Some of you will succeed in adapting to its rigors. Others," Snape glanced at the Gryffindor table and failed to hide his scorn, "will not. You will be expected to work harder than you ever have before. Only the highest standards apply. There will be no grading levels besides Outstanding. Receive this on every exam or you will fail. Failure will result in punishment and you will not move further in your magical education until you can prove yourself worthy to do so." He glared at each disbelieving face with an expression as hard and cold as stone. "No exceptions."

Ginny's hands were shaking with fury. Her heart was pounding so ferociously in her ears she could barely hear the rest of Snape's speech. How could this be real? This couldn't be real. She felt as if she were drowning in defeat before she had barely begun to fight. She could sense it in the room, the whole collective student body settling under the oppression and putting aside any delusion they ever harbored in standing up to this terrible regime. This wasn't Umbridge and her ridiculous demand for order…this was a breathing organism bred from pure evil. Snape was Voldemort's puppet, and his strings were in perfect, synchronized functionality.

"Insubordination will likewise be penalized," Snape was saying, carrying on with his message of doom. "Rebellious, careless behavior will not stand. Even so much as a remnant of a plan against this establishment and what it stands for will be punished accordingly. It may have escaped your attention that a certain exhausted icon for defiance is not with us this evening. Perhaps it is because he was too cowardly to make an appearance…"

Ginny moved compulsively in her seat, gaze of death boring from her eyes into the headmaster's sneering face. Neville grabbed a tight hold on her elbow, keeping her still despite her efforts to break free from his warning grasp.

"Perhaps," Snape continued his insulting diatribe against Harry, "perhaps he is wise enough to realize that the new Wizarding order is superior to the old." His tone was dripping in sarcasm, clearly believing the latter explanation for Harry's absence at school to be the more likely possibility. "Whatever the case, he is not here and his cause is a lost one." He gave one last sweeping span of the Great Hall with his beady eyes flashing reflective light under the glow of a thousand candles. "You would do well to remember this.

"Now," he moved on. "Before the feast begins, I wish to introduce some new members of our staff. Professor Amycus Carrow, your new Dark Arts instructor—"

Ginny didn't hear the rest of the introduction, not caring to listen and too irate to care._ "You would do well to remember this…" No, Headmaster,_ she thought threateningly. Snape would do well to remember Dumbledore's fall from the tower. It should be a fresh and constant image in the betrayer's mind. Ginny was sure that it was fresh in Harry's, and he wasn't in need of a reminder.

The rest of the feast was a blur. Ginny choked down only enough food to appear as if she were eating like the rest rather than thinking, plotting, _hating_ Snape with every fiber of her being. Not Snape. No, not entirely. Snape was not the source of all this darkness. _Find him, Harry,_ she willed him to hear her plea from hundreds of miles away. _Find him and end this…soon._

Up in the Gryffindor Common room after dinner, Ginny bade the group of congregated seventh years goodnight from where they all sat slumped near the fire discussing Harry and where he might be. She had run through this conversation several times, at home, on the train, and now at Hogwarts. She wasn't in the mood to do it again. She was tired and drained, and all she wanted was sleep.

Climbing the stairs to the girl's dormitory, Ginny entered the sixth year's quarters and found the room dark and nearly empty. Two of the beds usually occupied by her fellow classmates were empty, the mattresses bare and curtains drawn back, hanging limp. Her own bed was made, the sheets turned down and waiting. Her trunk was set at the foot with her uniform spread out on a nearby chair for the morning. She had noticed that two of her roommates were missing at the feast, but seeing their side of the room empty and dim at that moment made it more real and disheartening.

Ginny had never been that close with her fellow female sixth years. She got a long with them just fine as roommates, but while she had made acquaintances with Tom Riddle's diary in her first year, they had built strong bonds within themselves. After that she was never quiet able to ease her way into their tight little group and spent more of her time with her older siblings and their classmates than her own, especially once she began dating boys a year ahead of her in school. Ginny was saddened by their absence, but not particularly torn.

She was glad to see that Charlotte was there, sitting on the side of her own bed across from Ginny's combing through her long, sandy hued curls with a hairbrush. Charlotte Vinkle was the closest thing she had to friend among her fellow Gryffindor's in her same year. A pure-blood, like Ginny, there was really no threat of her being back at school. Indeed, Charlotte's parents would have insisted on her attendance. Charlotte's mother had been in Ravenclaw, her father in Slytherin. They were proud wizards of high standing and, Charlotte confessed, slightly disappointed that she hadn't been placed in either of their old houses.

"Hello, Char," Ginny greeted upon entrance.

Charlotte had looked up and passed her roommate a small smile in welcome. "Hi, Ginny," she set down the brush. "Good holiday?"

"Excellent," Ginny rolled her eyes, stifling a yawn and kneeling to dig out her pajamas. "It's good to see you. I'm glad you're here at least." Her eyes traveled briefly back to the two empty beds across the room.

Charlotte's piercing blue gaze followed. "_I'm_ glad they're not," she replied truthfully. "Maybe they're safer, you know, being gone."

Ginny understood what she meant, and nodded. "I hope so." Slipping on her clothes, she tossed her used robes into a pile beside her open trunk and reached for her toothbrush. "Brushed yet?"

Charlotte hadn't, so the two of them stepped into the empty washroom and took care of their bedtime routine before returning to their room and slipping under the covers. Here, in the solitude and darkness of the familiar dormitory, Ginny almost felt normal, maybe even at home. The distant voices of fellow Gryffindors moving about and preparing for bed played like a memory of better times. Ginny could almost imagine a few of them to sound like Hermione, Ron, or Harry saying goodnight on the stairs before going their separate ways for the evening.

"Tell me about your summer," Ginny spoke in the dark, hoping Charlotte hadn't fallen asleep yet. Charlotte was the storyteller of their broken little group. She had always been good for a story while they tried to fall asleep during their previous years at school. She was good at writing with aspirations to work for the _Daily Prophet_ after leaving Hogwarts.

"There's not much to tell, actually," Charlotte didn't sound tired, but she didn't sound enthused about sharing either. The mood at the feast had rubbed off on her too it seemed.

"No trip to France or Bird Island?" Ginny coaxed.

"No."

She could almost hear Charlotte shake her head in the dark.

"Daddy didn't want to leave his work at the Ministry, and Mum wouldn't go without him."

Understandable, Ginny thought. She almost responded with a snide comment about Voldemort's overthrow of the wizard world interrupting the Vinkle's vacation plans, but thought better of it. It wasn't Charlotte's fault, and she had always been nice to her. Charlotte had always been the one sitting beside Ginny's bed with a look of concern when she woke with screams of terror after yet another Riddle nightmare. Charlotte was her friend, despite her golden pure-blood status and small-minded parents. Ginny tried to force the bitter taste from her throat thinking that Charlotte had nothing to worry about coming back to Hogwarts that year. She would get along fine under the new order. She had no revenge to seek against Snape, no hatred burning so deep it was distracting. Her latest boyfriend was a pure-blood Hufflepuff, a Seeker just like Harry. He probably was fast asleep in his own dorm right then, Charlotte didn't have to worry about where he was or what was happening to him. She didn't have to worry about whether or not her dad would get sacked from the Ministry or either one of her parents getting thrown in Azkaban for acts of betrayal and muggle sympathies. Charlotte had nothing to worry about.

_No,_ Ginny corrected her attitude. Charlotte had everything to worry about. Pure-blood or not, the Dark Lord had no mercy. They all had something to fear now. "Well," Ginny rolled over and repositioned her pillow. "I have a story then. It's about a wedding, a birthday, and a very special present given to a handsome, dark haired wizard beside my bedroom window…"


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: This is a pretty short chapter, sorry. But it does address a question raised about why Ginny called herself a 'full-blood' in a previous chapter instead of a pureblood. This chapter explains that, hopefully well enough to satisfy! :D Enjoy!**

**Owl Post**

The refreshing breeze and warm sunshine enveloping the school grounds was nothing but a mockery that first morning of term. Like every other year, Ginny received her class schedule from Professor McGonagall at breakfast in the Great Hall. What was different was the schedule itself. Since their O.W.L.s had been cancelled because of Dumbledore's death, in order to plan their future studies, the sixth years were given a week to prepare for replacement exams which would be given the Monday of the second week of term. Ginny wasn't sure how fair this was; she had just returned from summer holiday and she hadn't exactly been using her free time to keep up on her studies. O.W.L.s were the last thing on her mind.

Ginny scanned the piece of parchment listing her study schedule for the upcoming week. Transfiguration, Dark Arts, Muggle Studies… "Muggle Studies?" she frowned, sitting up and leaning over to peer at Neville's seventh year schedule. "You too? I've never taken Muggle Studies, how am I supposed to take an exam on a class I've never sat for?"

"I've got it too," Lavender leaned in from across the table. "And look—" she pointed to the name of the instructor beside the listed class.

Ginny glanced between it and her own schedule reading the name of Professor Alecto Carrow. "Well, that explains it," she muttered, keeping her voice down with a fleeting look toward the Head Table. "I can just imagine what we'll be tested on."

One week. One week of intense review of everything thing they had ever learned while at Hogwarts, plus an additional class Ginny knew nothing about. Heading to Transfiguration first period, she considered risking a splinching just to walk out those front gates to apparate to London, straight to Grimmauld Place to hide out with Harry. The physical pain of a botched apparation seemed worth the risk compared to what she was facing at school.

In truth, preparation was a joke. Professor McGonagall was her usual strict and efficient self, bringing them up to speed and using every minute of class to ensure every sixth year would get through the transfiguration portion of their exams as best they could.

"I understand what you are up against," she took a moment to sympathize before dismissing them for their next class. "None of this is ideal. You should have been through and done with exams last year, your O.W.L.s already received, but that is not the case. Though times have changed, this school's desire to give you a sound education has not. Please take this seriously, as it is your future that is being decided."

It was a fine reminder and boost of encouragement to take to second period, Defense Against the Dark Arts, or simply the renamed Dark Arts. This was Ginny's first, up close experience with the doughy faced Professor Amycus Carrow, and she was not impressed. His distorted idea of teaching was little more than series of sick exercises involving forcing his students to hex one another in turn until he approved of their performance or they were sent to the hospital wing, whichever happened first. Ginny received her first Carrow detention by refusing to even attempt a Cruciatus curse on Charlotte. It would not be the last detention she would recieve that day, for next up on her schedule was Muggle Studies. Ginny had already met Amycus's sister, Alecto. She walked into that class fully expecting trouble from the start.

"This class has been taught poorly in the past," Carrow began. She stood at the front of the room with her pudgy arms behind her back, rocking on the balls of her feet with a scowl looking down her snout-like nose at the rows of silent students behind their desks. "It is a shame that it was merely an elective, led by a muggle loving nitwit without an inklin' of sense in 'er skull." Alecto nudged the side of her head with a sausage sized finger for emphasis. "Not a drop. Well, times is changed," her bushy eyebrows went up with vindictive glee. "You need all know the truth about these murky, mudblood, pigs and the danger they pose toward the true race of wizard.

"Now," she shrugged with a grimace, "some of yous are poor enough to have some tainted, muggle blood flowing in you. That's unfortunate, but if the magical blood is strong enough to overcome this weakness, you may still be of some use." Her brow furrowed again, glaring into row after row of stoic faces. "We shall see."

Picking up a clipboard and quill, she moved from desk to desk, checking off attendance and quizzing each student on their lineage and magical claim. A series of murmurs followed in her wake, "Half-blood, my mother is a pureblood." "Pureblood, I'm a third generation wizard." "Half-blood, my father's entire family are wizards and witches."

"And he married a muggle?" Professor Carrow interrupted with questions from time to time, demanding to know where the blood lines had been muddied and why.

"Yes," the nervous student nodded, glancing warily at his fellow sixth years as if for support. Perhaps he was worried Carrow wouldn't believe him and have him dragged out of the school that moment for being an imposter.

"Damn shame," Alecto merely grunted, moving on to the next in line.

It was Ginny's turn, and she had spent the entire class leaving bite marks on her lower lip in an effort not to scream in her instructor's prejudice, pompous face. This was almost more sickening than Amycus' poor excuse for a Dark Arts class. This was an insulting joke, and Ginny didn't have the patience for it.

"Ginevra Weasley?" Carrow paused beside her desk, reading her list of names and waiting for a response.

"Yes," Ginny responded with a tight jaw.

"Blood status?"

"Full-blood."

"Excuse me?" Carrow looked up from her parchment as if she hadn't heard right. "Blood status?"

"_Full-_blood," Ginny repeated louder so the professor wouldn't miss it this time.

Carrow stared her down with narrow eyes, her quill poised midair. The rest of the class were as silent as ever, but several snuck curious glances over their shoulders, darting looks between the seats and waiting for the explosion.

"I believe you misspoke, Ms. Weasley," Carrow's tone dropped dangerously. "The proper term is 'Pureblood.' That is of course if you indeed are a pureblood."

"No," Ginny returned with some intentional condescension of her own. "I'm not. My dad is a wizard, my mum is a witch, but none of us is any more pure than any other wizard. I am full-blooded." She pronounced the last as a challenge and even a small smirk despite the low rumble of nervous response from the rest of the class.

Patches of color emerged on Carrow's puffy cheeks and her beady eyes flashed with fury. "It is these kind of backwards notions which explain an obvious need for this class, Ms. Weasley. Your kind prove a need for it. But it seems like you will be needin' a few extra lessons for it to sink in. Detention, seven o'clock in my office."

"I'm afraid I can't make it, Professor," Ginny informed her with a straight face. "I've got plans with your brother at seven."

"Oh-ho!" Alecto was delighted to hear it. "Then make mine for nine! It will be a late night for you, my dear _full-blood_ dandy! But maybe by the end of it you'll be seeing a little more _pure."_

* * *

Neville was still up, waiting in the common room when Ginny finally stumbled through the portrait hole and returned from her double detention with the Carrows. "How did it go?" he asked cautiously, removing his feet from a nearby chair so she could collapse into it.

"Don't ask," Ginny winced as she hit the cushion, exhaling heavily and blowing her mussed hair out of her face.

Neville caught the expression and returned it with a concerned look of his own. "What did they make you do?"

"Well," Ginny glanced around the nearly deserted common room, considering whether or not she should even get into it. "Amycus was determined that I learn how to perform the Cruciatus curse, so he used it on me until I agreed to practice it on a Niffler."

Neville's jaw dropped.

"Exactly," Ginny agreed completely. "I couldn't leave until I had the grasp of the curse." The idea made her stomach churn even more. Every time she refused to comply or failed to perform, Carrow hit her with the curse until she was on the floor in agony. By the end of the detention she was nearly numb with pain and fighting off the inevitable tears. In the end, she had closed her eyes, gathered all the hatred she had built up toward that horrid man and pointed her wand at the poor, confused creature in its cage, hitting it with the curse. She had pulled up quickly and ended the curse almost as quickly as she cast it. Thankfully, it was enough for Carrow, and he sent her off for detention round two: endless lines with Alecto, writing "I am a pureblood witch," over and over and over…

"They've got to answer for this, Neville," Ginny said, leaning gingerly back in the chair with her eyes closed against the throbbing in her temples.

"You just returned for a torture session," he pointed out, "and you want to commit an act of revenge which could only lead to more?"

Ginny turned her head, opening her eyes and meeting his with an expression which said all she needed to say.

"Alright," he assented, "I'm in."

They knew they wanted to send the Carrows and the rest of the school a message, but by breakfast the next morning, they still didn't know how. A few weak ideas were tossed out, but none of them seemed right or plausible. Vowing she would come up with something, Ginny focused on her cereal, ignoring all hushed conversation at the table and racked her brain for an idea. With her mind elsewhere, she barely noticed the owl post arrive as a small barn owl landed on the table in front of her glass of juice.

"I believe that's for you, Ginny," Neville nudged her.

Looking up in surprise, she reached for the letter in the owl's beak and took it, opening it quickly. "It's from Bill," she said, pulling a thick slip of parchment out of the envelope. Confused and a little panicked, hoping that nothing was wrong at home, Ginny begain to read. Bill didn't write her often, and it wasn't usually just to chat.

_Gin,_

_Fleur and I hope that your start of term has been well. Mum and Dad asked me to send you an owl to see how you were since Errol just isn't up to the task. They were informed that sixth years would be taking makeup O.W.L.s in a few days in order to determine this year's class schedule. We all hope that you do well, but don't stress too much. Dad is positive you will get Exceeds Expectations on every exam. Mum then scolded him for putting on too much pressure. You'll do great, Ginny, we all know that. Dad also hopes that you are getting familiarized with your new instructors and learning a great deal in their classes. Greet Hagrid from us, and send word soon on how you are faring. I told Mum not to worry, if anyone can handle the stresses of school, it's you._

_Take care,_

_Bill_

Ginny read it three times to get all the subtle hidden messages. Mum and Dad had Bill send the letter with a different owl, not a recognizable Weasley family owl. Some chit-chat about school just to give the letter authenticity followed by the mention of Dad hoping she was becoming familiar with her new teachers. Well she certainly was at that, but most likely not how her father would have wished. Undoubtably that was the very reason why he had given the warning to get to know the Professors and what they were capable of. Greet Hagrid… Ginny didn't generally speak to Hagrid outside of class, but apparently her parents thought it was time that she do so. They were worried, but knew she would be able to handle herself under Snape's rule.

Ginny couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed that she had already received two detentions the first day back and was in the process of planning further acts of rebellion. Pushing her guilt aside, she prepared to do the same with the letter when she noticed something else on the bottom of the parchment. In the far righthand corner was a miniscule drawing. When she bent in for a closer look, she saw that it was an ink sketch of a Snitch. Why would Bill draw a picture of a Snitch?

Fingering the edge of the paper, Ginny chewed on her lower lip, thinking. The rim of her fingernail snagged on the thick parchment, and it hit her. This wasn't one letter, this was two.

"Neville," Ginny thrust the paper under his nose, pointing to the Snitch with the tip of her thumb. Chewing his bite of sausage, he looked close, deciphering what it was she was showing him. "Letter from my brother," she told him, implying more with her eyes and tapping the parchment near the drawing once again. It took him a second, but when Neville got the point, his eyes widened. "Interesting, eh?" Ginny's own eyebrows rose. "Sorry, Longbottom," she got up from her seat, grabbing her book bag. "You can't join me where I'm going, but I'll catch you up later."

Leaving him confused and alone at the table, Ginny headed out of the Great Hall, stopping only long enough to tap Luna on the shoulder at her place at the Ravenclaw table. "Walk with me to class, would you Luna?"

Luna looked more pleased than surprised, nodding and quickly following despite the fact that both her and Ginny knew that Gryffindor didn't have class with the Ravenclaws until later that afternoon.

Out in the hall, Ginny handed Luna the letter and explained who it was from, pointing out the Snitch in the corner. Ducking into the nearest girl's washroom, she directed Luna into a stall in the rear, stepping in last and locking the door behind them. Speaking in whispers, she took back the letter and began pulling the two stuck pieces of parchment apart, revealing the hidden message underneath.

"Something's happened," she said, unable to hide the excitement combating with fear in her voice. "This is the letter Bill sent me," she gave the original back to Luna to read. "I thought that was it until I saw the drawing." Reading to herself, she scanned the short line on the second page.

_Undesirable Number One seen at the Ministry. Reason unknown. Number 12 GP abandoned._

"Merlin's pants…" Ginny stared at the page.

Luna looked up from reading with a pleasant expression, waiting for an explanation for Ginny's mild exclamation.

"They went to the Ministry."

"Harry?" Luna smiled as if they were chatting about a friend they simply hadn't seen in a while.

"Yes, and Hermione and Ron, I imagine." The door to the washroom squeaked open, followed by the sound of low voices and creaking stall doors. Water ran in a sink and a young student whose voice Ginny didn't recognize asked her friend if she could borrow a hair ribbon. Clamping her mouth shut tight, Ginny read the secret message once more before turning the page so Luna could see it better. They waited for the other girls to leave before speaking again.

"Makes sense," Luna thought about it.

"What does?"

"Harry, going to the Ministry. He's probably looking for You-Know-Who. Now that the Ministry has been taken over, that is a good place to check, isn't it?"

Ginny frowned. She doubted very much that Voldemort was simply sitting about having meetings with the Minister. There was another reason for Harry risking capture by going to the Ministry; a good one. She just wished she knew what it was.

"Maybe…"

Luna tilted her head curiously while Ginny gathered her thoughts.

"I don't know, but maybe he thinks that's where the sword is."

"Godric's sword."

"Yes," Ginny nodded. "Dumbledore gave it to him in the will, and the Ministry had all the items he bequeathed inspected before handing them out. He probably thought that the Ministry kept the sword."

"Yeah," Luna nodded. That made sense.

But then Ginny wondered if Harry had been right. Was the sword at the Ministry or at Hogwarts? Had Harry gotten ahold of it already? "We better get to class," she crumpled up both letters, ignited them with her wand and let them burn a few seconds before dropping the whole charred mess into the toilet and flushing it away. The last thing she needed was more distractions before exams, but Ginny thought of little else but swords, Ministry break ins, and Harry for the rest of the day.


	13. Chapter 13

**_Prophets_ and Gains**

In the dream Harry was there. It looked like they were in Ginny's bedroom, but the room was slightly different. It was dark, apparently sometime late at night, and they were alone. Lying with their feet on opposite sides of her bed, Ginny and Harry stared at the ceiling with their heads almost touching, talking in low tones and watching what appeared to be stars floating overhead. Harry reached out and nabbed one from the air, bringing the bright glowing orb close enough for them both to see. It wasn't a star, Ginny noticed. It was a Snitch. The room was full of shining Snitches.

Taking her hand, Harry rested her palm in his and placed the Snitch within, closing her fingers around it. Their eyes met, and Ginny could see the glittering gold of a thousand Snitches reflecting in a sea of brilliant green. She moved in to touch her lips to his when a sudden wind filled the room like a roaring wave.

Turning in alarm, Ginny watched as Ron's patronus, shaped like a Jack Russell Terrier raced around the room, pulling up and hovering like an orb over the open floor. Her brother's voice rang out like an echo with a one word warning which doused the room with a gut-wrenching chill.

_"Run—"_

The Snitch was gone, replaced with Harry's hand grasping tightly with hers. They jumped off the bed and flew to the door, pulling it open just as a shadowy figure in a long black cloak appeared at Ginny's window. The sight of it stopped her in her tacks, filling her with a dread that made her mind numb.

Like a looming dementor with a faceless hole beneath its hood, the apparition flew towards them with an outstretched, skeletal arm. A scream caught in Ginny's throat as Harry tugged at her hand, pulling her out of the room and slamming the door behind them.

Ginny's room was gone. The Burrow was gone, and now they were running down a dank and shadowy corridor. Bones crunched beneath their feet as they sprinted around corners and through low-ceilinged tunnels. Ginny knew this place, and she didn't want to be there. She resisted Harry's pull on her hand, not wanting to see what was inevitably at the end of the foul-smelling shaft.

Something caught at her foot causing Ginny to trip and sending her sprawling along the slick, mucky stone floor. Catching herself against a crumbling mound, Ginny felt with her hands what she couldn't see with her eyes. Sticky dried scales of a massive snake skin clung to her sweaty palms as she pulled away and, feeling sick to her stomach, she began to panic. Her voice sounded hallow and distant in that closed space. Searching wildly in the dark, Ginny called for Harry. Called and called, but he was gone.

There was movement in the wavering, cool blue glow of distant light to Ginny's left. Squinting up her eyes, she quickly looked away and scrambled to her feet. Fleeing in the opposite direction, she ran for what felt like miles down twisting and turning underground alleyways. At her last turn, she saw it: the light of Sytherin's secret chamber. A mirror of still water appeared like black glass, and Ginny skid to a stop on her knees on the floor beside Riddle's cursed diary.

Panting and sucking in acidic air, Ginny choked on a sob._ No, no, no…_her thoughts screamed inside her pounding skull. _Harry!_

A frozen wave of air washed over her, and she knew he was there. The heir of Slytherin himself, the dark prince wrapped up in expectations of grandeur. A faded memory growing stronger with her increasing fear; it was hard to be brave when she knew what he would become. When she knew what her life would become because of him.

Ginny wanted to run away, but she couldn't. She never could in these dreams; he was too strong. Like every horrific nightmare, they were a sickening repeat of her worst memories. Every hellish vision ending the same way; with his malicious laughter drowning out her petrified scream…

* * *

"Ginny. _Ginny!_"

Jumping in her seat, Ginny looked up at Charlotte standing over the table in the library trying to get her attention with a hoarse raised whisper. "What?"

"I _said_, I'm heading back to the Common Room, are you coming?" Tapping her long, manicured nails on the glossy tabletop, she waited for her roommate to focus.

"Oh, no. I'm going to stay here for a bit," Ginny waved her off to return to her studying. She stared at the pile of textbooks and mounds of rolled parchment sprawled like a roadblock on her work station tucked back in a far corner of the library. She had been attempting to absorb even a few crumbs of knowledge over the last hour since dinner, but her mind was elsewhere. Like stuck on a plan on how to get one up on the Carrows since her torture session the night before. She was sore, tired from a long night of tossing, turning, and nightmares, and not in the mood for any amount of intense studying.

Charlotte left her alone, and Ginny sank lower in her chair, leaning her head on her hand and flipping a page in her History of Magic textbook. The words swam on the page, unreadable and incomprehensible. Studying for the O. this time around should have been easier without Harry around to distract her, but they weren't proving to be so. Harry was still a distraction, just from a distance.

"Hello, Ginevra," Luna appeared like a mist and drifted into an open seat beside Ginny's. She carried a copy of the most recent edition of the _Quibbler_, and she laid it out on the table over the top of one of Ginny's potions review.

"Hi, Luna," Ginny glanced at the page and did a double take. "That's Harry," she leaned in for a closer look at the magazine.

"Yes," Luna agreed, "I thought you might like to see it. It's an article my father wrote about Harry's sighting at the Ministry yesterday. Your father is quoted, here," she pointed at a line on the page. "But he denies it was Harry despite the Head of Magical Law Enforcement Claim that he was there in disguise..." she leaned over the page, reading more. "Another unnamed witch who was at the Ministry for a hearing claims she saw Harry's signature stag patro—"

"Luna, Luna, Luna," Ginny waved her quiet, speaking over her and glancing around the library hoping no one had heard. "How did you get this? They're checking all the mail; how was this not confiscated?"

"Oh," Luna looked surprised, picking up the _Quibbler_ and glancing at the cover as if confused as to why it would ever be considered contraband. "It's the _Quibbler_," she stated plainly.

Ginny took the magazine, turning back to the page with Harry's picture above the article. It was the old photo Lovegood had used to go with the Rita Skeeter article two years before. It still made Ginny's heart ache to look at it. "Well, whatever the reason," she lowered her voice. "If this gets left lying around and Snape or the Carrows see it, the _Quibbler_ won't pass inspection again. Has anyone else seen this?"

"Just Neville," Luna shrugged. "He wanted to borrow it to show everyone in Gryffindor, but I told him I wanted to finish the puzzle on page thirty-eight first."

"Of course," Ginny responded absently, thinking hard about something. Her gaze drifted to a nearby table where an old edition of the _Daily Prophet_ lay sprawled out and neglected. "Luna, I'm sorry, but your puzzle might have to wait just a few hours. Can I borrow this?" She held up the magazine, standing and shoving books and quills into her bag. Luna looked surprised and a little hesitant. "I promise I'll get it back to you right away, puzzle undamaged. I just need the article…" she reached for the old_ Prophet_, nabbing it off the table, "and this. Neville's right, people need to see this; and I have an idea."

It wasn't a new idea, actually, but the _Quibbler_ itself reminded her of it. It was the perfect way to get back at the Carrows while keeping a low profile like her father wanted. When Umbridge banned the article of Harry's interview about Voldemort in the _Quibbler_, everyone had read it while the magazine hardly made an appearance. Hidden in textbooks, tucked between the pages and easily wiped clean with simple vanishing spells…it was a simple solution then and an answer to Ginny's problem now. With both the _Quibbler_ and the _Prophet_ in hand, she hurried up to her dormitory, closing the door soundly behind her.

Charlotte was still down in the Common Room, so she had the place to herself. Laying the open article on her bedspread, Ginny did the same with the newspaper, choosing a center page inked with a few columns of advertising for shops in Diagon Alley. Taking out her wand, she cleared one whole page with a vanishing spell then replaced it with the article from the _Quibbler_.

"Perfect," Ginny smiled at her handy work, holding up the page under the light. Then, just a simple _Geminio_ spell, and in no time she had a nice stack of identical, altered editions of the _Prophet_ to pass out and leave lying around the school the next morning. Before long everyone would know the Chosen One was still out there, still fighting against the new wizarding order. And if any teacher had a problem with it, they had only the _Daily Prophet_ to blame.

With the help of Neville, Seamus, Luna, Lavender, and Parvati, Ginny managed to hand out every one of the altered newspapers before first period the next morning. Most were passed covertly to other students themselves, while a few were simply left lying around both the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw common rooms for anyone to read. Ginny even managed to replace the _Prophet_ she stole, setting the new one back in the library lying open with Harry face up on the table. They left the rest of the circulation up to the adept gossip channels of Hogwarts, relying on the speed of a good story to spread the news of the outdated newspaper with an intriguing backdoor update.

It didn't take the Carrows long to realize something was up. With their authoritative influence sucking even a sliver of enthusiasm out of the student body, any amount of interest shown in the halls between classes set off alarms. As word spread, precautions were taken to hide the offending newspapers, ripping out the _Quibbler_ article, or simply changing the _Prophet's_ appearance all together. So while Amycus and Alecto stomped around demanding searches of book bags, setting newspapers on fire, and handing out unreasonable detentions, the news that Harry may have been spotted at the Ministry swept through the school like an electric charge.

Ginny couldn't help but grin at the lunch table while listening to the ripple of gossip floating about the Great Hall. The Carrows had forbidden any talk about Undesirable No. One's exploits and, though it wasn't a crime to carry a copy of the_ Daily Prophet_, anyone found with a dated edition featuring Harry's article would be punished severely. Her job accomplished, Ginny wasn't sorry in the least to see every last one of the newspapers rounded up and burned. They could destroy the words, but they couldn't destroy the effect they had imposed.

From what Ginny could make out from the hushed conversations, most students seemed bolstered by Harry's escapades at the Ministry. Speculations ran wild as to what he may have been trying to accomplish by going there. The fact that he made it in and out with "two accomplices," as the _Quibbler_ had stated, without being caught was unbelievable. Of course there were the few skeptics. Some doubted the truth to the story at all. Some even speculated that Harry was gone, out of the country in hiding with no plan to ever return. Some called him a fool for even daring to enter the Ministry when it was obvious to everyone that You-Know-Who wasn't anywhere near there.

Ginny had to bite her tongue so as not to retort to these comments and give herself away. The Carrows had yet to place the blame of the article fiasco on anyone, but she was sure they had a few suspects, and she wasn't about to help them pinpoint the culprit.

"Something's got those Carrows stirred up, eh?" Neville sat down across the table with a suppressed grin, obviously enjoying the havoc they had created.

"They better have a chat with those writers at the _Daily Prophet_," Ginny agreed blandly. "The truth isn't helping their cause too well."

"Not a bit. Pass the butter, would you?"

Ginny obliged, keeping her head over her Potions book in an effort to keep from looking around the room and appearing too gleeful.

"You know, I do believe this has spurred on a _slight_ rebellion," Neville continued.

"How so?"

"Well, since all the _Prophets_ were confiscated, someone…I won't say who…decided the message needed a more permanent billboard."

"Where?" Ginny looked up in surprise. She hadn't heard about any billboard.

Neville nodded, leaning in and lowering his voice. "Permanent sticking charm on the Dark Arts classroom door."

"The article?" Ginny nearly laughed out loud.

Neville nodded. "Filch covered it up with some paint or something, but it didn't work. There's some sort of glossy covering or the like over the clipping, it won't absorb the paint so nothing will stick. I think they were talking about replacing the door next."

"That's brilliant," Ginny grinned, glancing up and falling silent at the sight of Headmaster Snape stepping up from the Head Table to take the podium. The entire room became quiet but for a few scraping bench legs on the stone floor as every head turned and gave him their full consideration.

"It has come to my attention that a certain article written about the rebel Harry Potter has been deviously masked and circulated throughout the school grounds this morning. This is a disgrace to school policy and treacherous to our noble Ministry of Magic. The person or persons responsible for these despicable acts must come forward." He paused, waiting for a response he knew would never offer itself up. "If the traitor in charge of this pathetic rebellion does not step forward then you all will be found guilty. All privileges in the form of extra-curricular activities, including organized sports and student privileges to Hogsmeade, will be revoked immediately. This ban goes into effect at once unless the perpetrator or perpetrators admits his or her crime—"

"It was Luna Lovegood!" a sniveling rat from somewhere at the Slytherin table spoke up. With an accusing, pointed finger, a fourth year with a high pony tail stood up and put the blame on Luna who glanced about in surprise, clearly not sure what was happening.

_"No!"_ Ginny exclaimed under her breath. Neville's grip tightened on his butter knife, but he remained still.

"It was Luna," the fourth year reiterated. "The article was from her father's tabloid! It was from the _Quibbler_, she did it!"

Professor McGonagall finally hushed the girl up by stepping over and commanding her to regain her seat. The room rolled with a wave of grumbled response, everyone looking at Luna at once.

"Silence!" Snape regained their attention. "Ms. Lovegood," he moved out from behind the podium like a menacing phantom. "Step forward. Now."

Luna did as she was told, moving slow and a little uncertain, but Ginny saw an expression of set determination on her face as she climbed off the bench beside her fellow Ravenclaws. She was going take the punishment for her father's words, for Ginny's idea. Luna believed she was actually responsible just for being involved…

"Wait!" Ginny jumped up, stopping Luna from advancing any further. All eyes were on her now and, for a moment, even the headmaster looked surprised. His expression quickly changed to understanding and even a sick pleasure at Ginny's admittance. Ginny didn't miss the expression, nor the Carrow's identical, devilish grins, and her insides turned slightly to jelly before she could open her mouth and speak again. "It wasn't Luna," she told the entire assembly, swallowing back her moment of hesitation. "It was me, I did it."

"Well then, Ms. Weasley," Snape crossed his arms behind his back and looked down on her from the higher platform. "Follow me."

* * *

Standing behind Snape at the entrance to the headmaster's office, Ginny strained to hear him pronounced the password with the hopes that she could verify whether or not it was indeed "Dumbledore" like Luna suggested. Apparently the password could be given nonverbally, however, because Snape managed to gain access without uttering a word.

He led the way onto the revolving staircase, ignoring Ginny until they had stepped inside the office and he had closed the door. "Sit," he commanded, moving a chair with a rapid wand flick, drawing the upholstered seat away from the front of the headmaster's desk and settling it in the center of the open floor.

Ginny gingerly sat down, looking around the room as if seeing it for the first time. In fact it was the first time she had been in the headmaster's office since Snape took over, and it was odd. It felt empty without all those noisy little contraptions of Dumbledore's. Fawkes' stand was gone, everything linking the chamber to its previous owner was gone and replaced with an empty, clerical feeling. It was dark and cold in there, and Ginny wished Snape would at least light a fire in the hearth.

"I should have known," he did nothing of the sort, merely standing oppressively over her with a characteristic sneer which made Ginny's blood boil. "You have an ego the size of your boyfriend's; I'm not the least surprised." Snape was enjoying watching his prey suffer in her chair, and he hadn't even gotten to the punishment yet.

"How is your precious Chosen One fairing these days? I imagine being Undesirable has an effect on his celebrity status."

"I wouldn't know," Ginny responded tightly, "You're intercepting all my owls."

"Is that what this is all about?" the headmaster continued as if she hadn't spoken. "A miserable attempt at maintaining his glory? If you haven't noticed, Ms. Weasley, the great Harry Potter has lost his allure."

"Is that why the article had everyone talking this morning?" Ginny couldn't help but ask. "Seems like there was a lot of attention given to someone no one actually cares about."

"Hold your tongue," Snape snapped, growing angry.

"If nobody cares, why am I in trouble?" Ginny wasn't about to be silenced by the likes of that double-crosser. He called her a traitor? What would Dumbledore have to say to that? She darted her narrow eyes at the portrait behind the headmaster's desk, but Dumbledore's likeness was sleeping, his beard rising and falling on his chest with a peaceful expression on his noble face. Just the sight of him set Ginny's determination further, and she returned her heated gaze to the current poor excuse for a headmaster and met his glare without blinking.

"You are in trouble, Ms. Weasley, for blatant insubordination and causing purposeful disruption in my school. This in an educational institution, not a soapbox for your remonstrations."

"I wasn't arguing anything," Ginny pointed out. "I was simply handing out the facts. What's so secretive about Harry appearing at the Ministry? Why shouldn't everyone know?"

"Enough," Snape put an end to her questioning. "As Headmaster, I do not feel it necessary to explain my reasoning to you."

_No, of course not,_ Ginny thought sardonically, looking away and refraining from rolling her eyes. Making a real effort to keep the rest of her thoughts to herself, she tightened her jaw and kept her mouth shut. Refusing to even look at the headmaster anymore, she focused on the encased shelves lining the wall across the room and waited for her sentencing.

"Your offense deserves three Saturday detentions to be served out under my watch. There is a project which your arrogant, golden boyfriend failed to complete last year. You are so fond of carrying his self-important banner; you will finish it for him. You will meet me here, eight-o'clock am, Saturday without fail." He waited for a response but received none, only defiant, brooding silence. "You are dismissed, get to class."

Ginny didn't wait around to be told twice, darting from the chair and leaving the room quickly. Riding the revolving staircase back to the corridor below, she loathed Snape's infuriating condescension, but couldn't help but smile. Her visit to the headmaster's office had a small amount of benefit after all. She had nearly missed it in her fury, but the glint of rubies had drawn her attention through the glass of the case across the room. The sword, Godric Gryffindor's sword, was just sitting there for the taking.


	14. Chapter 14

**Responsibilities**

Ginny fully sympathized with Harry's plight after just one Saturday detention under Snape's watch. Her hand was sore and cramped after endless hours of copying old records of Hogwart's student's wrongdoings onto new index cards. It was a cruel form of punishment, and she dreaded having to do it for another two Saturdays. Ginny imagined how it must have felt for Harry to read the names and mischievous deeds of his deceased father and godfather. She was sure it had been an uncomfortable shock each time their names appeared on a new card. Near the end of her detention she had even come across her mother's name recorded next to the offense of using defensive magic in the halls against a fellow student. Ginny was definitely going to have to remind her mother about that incident the next time Molly felt the need to nag about Ginny's own displays of poor temper.

At the end of the week, the sixth years had received their schedules for their upcoming exams. Starting Monday, for three days, their skills as witches and wizards would be tested in front of their Professors. No examiners for them, everything would have to be done before the Hogwart's staff within a jam packed schedule which allowed for very little breathing room. It was already the second week of term; they needed to be tested quickly to get on with their sixth year studies.

Ginny spent her first weekend at school suffering through detention on top of endless hours of studying. She had to push all thoughts of Gryffindor's sword to the back of her mind just to stay focused. By Monday morning she was mentally exhausted and nearly sick with worry about the outcome of her exams.

First up was History of Magic. Ginny was quite relieved to get this one done right away. Once she forged through all the names, dates, and goblin wars, she was able to clear her head a little and focus on spell technique. Her Transfiguration written exam immediately followed History of Magic with a short break for lunch before the practical test in front of McGonagall. Ginny was fairly certain she at least received an Exceeds Expectations on that portion; she had always been successful turning teacups into turtles. She didn't want to press her luck, but Ginny thought she might have even scored an Outstanding.

After sunset the sixth years met for their Astronomy exam in the tallest tower. Stifling several yawns, Ginny slogged her way through the pinpointing and naming of several planets, stars, and constellations. She managed to complete her chart with a few minutes to spare and, with a relieved sigh she handed it in before returning to her dormitory and falling gratefully into bed.

Tuesday was even more exhausting as the schedule was packed to include both written and practical exams for Potions, Dark Arts, Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures. Ginny managed to perform rather well for all except Dark Arts where she refused to do anything but defect and repel spells directed at her from Carrow's wand. She was certain she would receive a T for non-participation and refusal to perform any dark magic in return, but Ginny could have cared less.

Her attitude was the same for Muggle Studies Wednesday morning. The written test was insulting with questions such as:_ Name the most efficient way to contain the muggle contagion which leads to cases of stunted magical powers, i.e. Squibs?_ Disregarding the inevitable punishment, Ginny responded:_ perhaps more pureblood inbreeding would do the trick, isn't that the answer to everything?_ And from that point on her only answer to every question was simply: _inbreeding._

By the end of the day, walking out of her final Charms exam, Ginny felt incapable of any intelligent thought. Scarfing down dinner, she excused herself quickly and dashed back to Gryffindor tower. There was a ban on using the Quidditch pitch unless during scheduled practices with a House team, but Ginny hadn't been out flying once since returning to school. Grabbing her broom and a light cloak, she ducked back downstairs, checked for the Carrows, and slipped out the front doors. Crossing the courtyard, she kept to the shadows and made her way out onto the grounds, jumping on her broom and taking off into the air at full speed.

The early autumn air was crisp in the approaching dusk. Breathing in deep, Ginny relaxed for the first time in nearly two weeks. Outside of Snape's grim control over the castle, Hogwarts nearly appeared normal, like home again. She circled a low turret and changed directions, heading for the Forbidden Forest and slowing before Hagrid's hut. Losing altitude, Ginny hit the ground with both feet and stumbled slightly, stopping just before the steps at the front door. She had not seen much of Hagrid since the beginning of term. He rarely ate at the Head Table for meals, and they never had opportunities to talk during the short Care of Magical Creatures reviews before O. . Now, free of a few stresses, Ginny thought it would be best to follow through with her family's request to get to know the half-giant.

Fang barked at the door before she could even knock. The curtains shifted in the window, and Hagrid peered through the break, surprised to see that it was Ginny on his front stoop. "Ginny Weasley." he threw open the door, standing in a stain-splotched apron and holding a massive spoon dripping some sort of gravy. "What brings you roun'? Down, Fang! Get, you overgrown nif'lar. How are you?" He stepped aside to allow Ginny to enter the cramped cottage with a pleased grin on his ruddy face. "Wish'da known, I'd 'ave cleared up a bit."

"No," Ginny assured him it was fine. "I shouldn't have dropped by unannounced. I just…" She just what, she didn't know. She wasn't really sure what she was supposed to do now that she was there. Perhaps she should have stayed on her broom. "I just wanted to say hi, see how you were."

"Oh." Hagrid appeared to find this as awkward as Ginny, though still pleased to see her. "Well glad ye did, right glad. Sit! I'll get you a cuppa tea."

Ginny sought a chair not loaded down with muddy sacks or lopsided animal cages. Brushing something dry and crusty off of a bench beside the massive kitchen table, she sat and crossed her ankles dangling several inches off the floor. "My brother sent me a letter," she told Hagrid.

"Bill?" He asked, pouring a weak colored, steaming tea into a large mug. "Oh yeah? What'd he 'ave to say?"

"Just family stuff, mostly," Ginny accepted the drink, sipping gingerly and fighting the urge to grimace at the taste. Ron had always warned her about accepting anything at Hagrid's table, but he had always made it sound like the tea was okay. "There was a message though, underneath the letter. It was about Harry."

"About breakin' inta the Ministry," Hagrid nodded, stirring something gurgling in a giant Dutch oven on the fire. "Yah, that seems ta be big news just 'bout everywhere. What did Bill tell ya?"

"Not enough," Ginny relied. "Do you know what happened, Hagrid? Why were they there?"

Sitting heavily into a nearby armchair, he shrugged with a grunt. "Dunno, to be honest. No'ne does, really. Lupin probably has some idea, bein' the last to 'ave seen the three of 'em. But none of us is seein' much o' Lupin to even be askin'. 'E ain't been aroun'."

Ginny was about to ask why, but kept her curiosity to herself. Like every other member of the Order, Hagrid would most likely answer with some vague response referring to confidential Order business she wasn't allow to know anyway.

"I see you've taken up your brothers' line o' work up at the school," Hagrid changed the subject slightly, eying Ginny with a twinkle in his beetle black eyes.

"Oh," she blushed. "You heard about that."

"Professor Sprout passed this'n on ta me," he reached for a familiar looking newspaper lying folded on a nearby crate.

"Probably the only surviving copy," Ginny smiled.

"I know why ya did it, Ginny, but it weren't smart, not with that murderin'—" Hagrid stopped himself before he went too far insulting the headmaster in front of a student. "Well, just be careful."

Ginny nodded, about to convince him that she would be when he realized something. Noticing her broom where she had propped it just inside the door, he looked alarmed. "Blimey, 'ow didja get outta the castle? Snape's gotta ban on flying outside a' Qudditch!"

"Sorry, Professor Hagrid," Ginny got up to leave.

"None o' that Professor bunk, just get back to the school, and don't get caught or we'll both be thrown offa the groun's."

Holding back a smile, Ginny thanked him for the tea nonetheless and picked up her broom. "Don't worry," she assured him at the door, "I won't get caught."

"More 'n more like them twin brothers of yours," Hagrid shook his head in amusement while standing in the threshold as she prepared to leave.

"Better looking though," Ginny jumped on her broom and took off, flying under the cover of darkness back to the castle's main doors.

The results of the O. were passed out at breakfast the following Friday along with fresh schedules. McGonagall consulted which each of the sixth years, discussing which classes to take based off of their exam grades. Ginny wasn't surprised to see two failed marks in both Dark Arts and Muggle Studies, but since they were mandatory classes, she still had to add them to her schedule. She also had been right about receiving an Outstanding in Transfiguration as well in Astronomy and Charms. With Exceeds Expectations in Potions and Care of Magical Creatures and an Acceptable in both History of Magic and Divination, Ginny considered her exams a success. Hopefully her parents would agree.

With her two mandatory classes, she added Transfiguration, Potions and Charms. Professor McGonagall suggested she carry on with her Astronomy as well, since she had received such high marks. Ginny consented, and McGonagall added it to the class list, tapping the piece of parchment and signing off on the new schedule. Ginny still had Transfiguration first period, so she finished eating and returned to her dormitory to grab her books before rushing to class. With any luck, things would finally settle down and she would find time to concentrate on the things that mattered most, like captaining the upcoming Quidditch season and getting her hands on the sword.

* * *

"What…is _this_?" Ginny ripped a blank sheet of paper off the Common Room bulletin board, thrusting it in the direction of her fellow Gryffindors sitting around the room in various stages of relaxation. Several conversations stopped mid-sentence as they all stared at her in confusion.

"Looks like the Quidditch signup sheet _you_ put up, Weasley," fellow sixth year, Milton Ryne pointed out sarcastically.

"Obviously,_ Ryne_," she returned the attitude. "Why has no one signed up for tryouts yet? Our first match is in little more than a month! We can't beat Hufflepuff without a team!"

"We can't beat Hufflepuff at all," Seamus chuckled from his armchair by the fire. "We're lousy."

"Oh, we're lousy," Ginny turned her annoyance on him. "How can we be lousy when we haven't even had tryouts, or a single practice? When we don't even know who our team is?"

"Uh, let me think," Seamus shot back, "because we don't have Harry. Gryffindor has only been winning these last few years because of him. Without him, we're sunk."

Ginny looked from face to face in disbelief, catching the agreement in each expression. _Are they serious?_ she couldn't help but be disgusted. "May I remind you who won the Cup last year while Harry was locked up in detention with Snape?"

This brought about more shrugs and even a few smiles; she got them there.

"And who caught the Snitch?" she pressed. Not to rag on Harry, but he wasn't the only one who could win a Quidditch game.

"You did," Neville spoke up from a nearby table.

"That's right," Ginny nodded with confidence.

"And if we had a team full of Weasleys again, great," Milton pointed out. "But we've got nothing."

"Shut up, Ryne," she had never liked him. Whatever possessed the Hat to place him in Gryffindor, Ginny didn't know. Pulling out her wand, she pointed it toward the ceiling. "No one is leaving this room until I get some names on this list. First one who tries, gets hexed," she threatened. "Come on, somebody sign it. Longbottom?"

Neville gave a sort of nervous giggle and sank lower in his seat, disappearing behind his copy of _Useful Rainforest Vegetation._

_Brilliant,_ fine help he was. "Seamus?" Ginny tried someone else. While dating Dean the year before, she had spent enough time with Seamus to know that he was a pretty fair flyer when he wanted to be. Holding out the signup sheet she tightened her grip on her wand and waited.

"Yeah, alright," he relented, getting up and crossing the room. "Borrow your quill then, Captain Nutters?"

Ginny didn't appreciate his cheek, but let it go, thankful for his signature.

After much convincing, she was also able to recruit Charlotte to try for Seeker and third year Sean Cromwell for Keeper. She had little trouble talking Jimmy Peakes into returning to his Beater position, but Ritchie Coote was a little more difficult. "I don't know," he hesitated to sign the paper. "It could be brutal with Snape as headmaster. He's not going to be fair to Gryffindor."

"He's headmaster, not referee," Ginny wasn't having any of his excuses, pushing the signup sheet at him and giving him no choice.

That just left the third Chaser position to fill. "Where's Demelza?" she looked around the room, not seeing her fellow teammate from the year before.

"She's probably up in her dormitory," Charlotte filled her in. "And I don't know that she'll be wanting to play this year."

"Why?"

"Because she received an owl saying her mother's hearing at the Ministry didn't go well. She wasn't able to prove that she's a witch and they snapped her wand in two. Demelza's family is thinking of going into hiding; she might have to leave school."

Ginny was surprised by the upsetting news; she had thought the Robins were a pureblood family, she had no idea that Demelza was going through all that. "I'll speak with her," she tried to sound positive, stoppering her ink bottle and tucking away her quill. "Maybe she still will want to play if she remains at school. Otherwise..." otherwise what? Who could they get to replace such a strong offensive player like Demelza? "We'll make it work," she told her skeptic teammates with as much confidence as she could muster. "Just…make sure you show up for practice, okay?" With that, she gathered her books and headed upstairs. Shut up in her dormitory, Ginny exhaled heavily and tried to stay positive.

"This was supposed to be your job, Potter," she told the inside of her trunk while she dug around for fresh pajamas. It was just like him to leave her behind to deal with the important stuff, like captaining Quidditch while he took the easy route and saved the world. "Damn you and your heroic tendencies." Reaching for her bathroom bag, she tossed a towel over her shoulder and decided to soak her disappointments away in a long, hot bath.


	15. Chapter 15

**The Headmaster's Office**

Ginny had her Quidditch team, but she didn't have time to train them. With O. accomplished, the sixth years were thrown into their studies with a purpose to make up time. The rest of the month of September flew by in a confusion of classes, homework, and Saturday detentions with the headmaster. The morning of her third scheduled detention, Ginny was approached by a freckle-faced first year Slytherin with a note from Snape. The first year stalked up to the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall where Ginny and Charlotte were eating breakfast, thrust out the small rolled up piece of parchment and just stood there, waiting for Ginny to take it.

"What's this?" she set down her fork with a confused frown. The first year didn't answer, returning the look with a scowl of his own as he passed off the message. Once his duty was accomplished, he turned on his heel and hurried off, apparently offended for having been given such a menial task. "Git," Ginny muttered under breath, ripping open the seal on the parchment and reading the note.

"What does it say?" Charlotte asked.

"My detention's been postponed," Ginny answered.

"Great! Oh no, wait…" Charlotte scrunched up her nose. "Does that mean you'll want to schedule Quidditch practice? 'Cause I was really hoping to get some writing done today."

"What?" Ginny appeared preoccupied, missing her roommate's comment completely.

"Guess not," Charlotte took that as a no and finished her pumpkin juice before leaving the table. "I'll be in our room if you need me."

Ginny didn't hear that announcement either, not even noticing Charlotte leave. Flattening the message from the headmaster, she noticed Parvati using a quill in a personal journal across the table. "Can I borrow this?" she plucked the quill out of Parvati's hand and dipped it in the open ink bottle despite the owner's protest. "Just real quick, thanks."

Bending over the table, Ginny attempted to keep the contents of the note hidden, circling a portion of the message and adding her own text beside it. Handing back the quill and ignoring Parvati's snide remark, she blew the ink dry on the page, rolled it back up and glanced down the table at where Neville sat munching on toast and chatting with Seamus.

"Oi, Longbottom!" Ginny got his attention with a raised whisper. They weren't far from the High Table, but neither of the Carrows seemed to notice, too busy stuffing their pig faces with bacon and eggs. Neville heard her just fine, glancing up in time to see the rolled parchment fly straight for his face. Catching it one-handed, he raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Ginny mimed exaggerated directions for him to open it, as if this wasn't the obvious next course of action.

Neville read the entire message, noting the circled portion informing the insubordinate student that her detention was postponed due to the headmaster being unexpectedly called away from school for the entirety of the day. Beside the message Ginny had written one word: "Dumbledore." Not referring to the previous headmaster himself, Neville took it to indicate the speculated password for Snape's office.

His mouth going a little dry, Neville understood the meaning of Ginny's message clearly. Swallowing his reservations and old tendencies to cower from such endeavors, he crumpled up the paper and answered Ginny's expectant expression with a determined nod. They were planning on stealing the sword eventually; what better time to do it than when the headmaster was away?

* * *

Neville knew that the Carrows usually enjoyed a Saturday afternoon firewhiskey at the Three Broomsticks. "They don't need a Hogsmeade weekend for an excuse, they'll nip down there any old time," he assured Ginny. "Stay long enough for a pint, maybe two. Anyway, they leave right after noon meal if they're going to. Might be different this week though, with Snape gone. Someone's got to keep order, don't they?"

Ginny agreed, but they kept an eye on the brother and sister all through lunch, waiting and hoping the temptation to escape for a few rounds with Madame Rosemerta would trump their Hogwarts responsibilities. But the longer they sat there, the less likely it seemed that Alecto and Amycus had any intention but to stay. Ginny was about to make the decision to have a go at the sword regardless when she spotted the Carrows get up from the Head Table and make their way out into the front entrance of the school.

Ginny motioned for Neville to follow before hastily jumping up from her own seat and heading in the same direction. "Keep an eye on them," she met up with Neville at the end of the Gryffindor table, leaning in and whispering instructions before gently pushing him in the direction of the doors. "I'll grab Luna."

Thankfully Luna was still in the Great Hall, sitting by herself at the Ravenclaw table in front of a half-eaten plate of food and staring vacantly at the ceiling in a daydream. Ginny noted the odd existence of dark circles under her friend's eyes which hadn't been there before. They appeared startling and uncharacteristic on a normally carefree face. A realization hit Ginny with a guilty pang. She obviously hadn't been paying as much attention to Luna as she should. Her own world was wrapped up in a heavy layer of stress, and Ginny was doing rather a poor job of thinking of anything else.

"Luna," she placed a hand on her classmate's arm, cautiously pulling her out of her reverie. "Are you okay?"

"Ginevra," Luna's pale eyes lit up with a pleasant smile. The exhaustion and worry lifted, and she looked a little more like Luna again. "Would you like to sit down? I'm still finishing my pudding—"

"No, Luna listen," Ginny glanced over her should, catching sight of Neville leaning back through the open door of the Great Hall with an affirmative thumbs up and a nod. "I actually was wondering if you would like to help us with something."

"My father isn't sending me anymore Quibblers," she responded, sounding a little sad. "He doesn't want me to get into any trouble."

"That's not what I meant," Ginny felt really bad for even asking. Maybe it would be better if they just left Luna out of this one. "Um…we were just, Neville and I, we're going to stop in the headmaster's office for a bit."

"Oh," Luna still seemed confused. "But the headmaster isn't here, I didn't see him at the Head Table…" her gaze drifted toward the front of the hall.

"No, he's not," Ginny regained her attention. "But I need to get something. Something for Harry," she emphasized the explanation with her eyes, nodding a bit when Luna picked up on the meaning. "I was thinking you could help, but don't, Luna. Not if you don't want to."

"I want to," she stood up, completely forgetting her pudding. "What do you want me to do? Wait outside in the corridor?" Luna was a Ravenclaw for a reason, and Ginny couldn't help but grin.

"Yes, that is exactly what I need you to do."

* * *

Neville confirmed that he saw the Carrows head out the front doors of the castle and even heard Amycus mention the name of the Three Broomsticks in passing. If their luck lasted, they had a good hour or more before the Swine Siblings, as Ginny was now calling them, returned and found them out. Luna agreed to sit near the gargoyle in the corridor pretending to work on her Charms homework while Ginny and Neville attempted to gain access to the revolving staircase and the office above. She would cause a loud disturbance with her wand if the Carrows returned unexpectedly or should another teacher appear. It wouldn't do to return from the office carrying the sword with the hall occupied by an enraged McGonagall or a confused Professor Flitwick. Neville imagined their motives would be hard to explain.

Ginny agreed. "Alright," she glanced down the empty hall one last time to ensure no one was coming. "Just make all the noise you can, and we'll hold up and wait for the all clear." She made sure Luna understood before turning to the gargoyle and taking a deep breath.

"Dumbledore," Luna whispered, encouraging her in case she had forgotten.

"Yes, thank you." Holding tight to her wand, Ginny faced the statue head on and spoke with more confidence than she felt. The headmaster's name as the password just seemed too easy. "Dumbledore!" she spoke, jumping back a step in surprise when the gargoyle moved, the revolving stair appearing for them to step up.

"It worked," Neville was as shocked as she was, glancing at Luna in appreciation. Luna merely smiled, knowing it all along.

"I'll see you soon, Neville," she told him. "Hurry back."

"We will," Ginny assured her while stepping onto the first stair. It continued to move upwards, and Neville quickly jumped onto the step behind her. He appeared a little nervous about what they were doing, but resolved to go through with it. Ginny felt the same way; she was not going to back out now that they had the perfect opportunity. She still didn't understand why, but she knew Harry needed the sword, and it was important for her to get it for him.

The door at the top of the stairs was also locked, a precaution that seemed ridiculous to Ginny since it opened easily with a simple _Alohomora_ spell.

"That was pointless, wasn't it?" Neville agreed completely.

"Well, it's Snape," Ginny pointed out, "who knows why he does anything." And because it was Snape, she half expected there to be some sort of booby trap to ensnare them upon entering the office. There was not, and Ginny relaxed a little once Neville shut the door behind them. No traps or awaiting curses for anyone who wasn't the headmaster, the door didn't even lock again as it latched back into place, there was nothing but silence.

The chamber looked much as it did the last time Ginny was in there receiving detention from Snape. It was dark and as silent as a tomb; the only sound the snoring of sleeping headmasters on the portraits hanging on the walls around the room. Even Dumbledore was sleeping again, which was a disappointment. Ginny had hoped he would be awake to witness their act of defiance against his murdering successor. She contemplated calling out and waking the portrait of the previous headmaster, but Neville nudged her arm and pointed to the class case where the sword was displayed.

Forgetting about Dumbledore, Ginny stepped forward and peered at the glinting ruby sword. It was the closest she had been to it since that night in the Chamber of Secrets. Everything about it reminded her of Harry, the call of a phoenix, the warmth of her life returning to her once Riddle's diary had been destroyed along with his soul sucking memory. Saved by a Gryffindor with their founding father's sword pulled from the Sorting Hat…the hat which had pronounced that she too belonged to that heroic house. Not because of her last name, but because the hat had seen something in her, something beyond her characteristic Weasley hair color and quick temper. The hat had told her she was driven, steadfast, and loyal. She belonged in Gryffindor just like Dumbledore and Harry…and Neville.

Ginny glanced up, looking at her friend with a scrutinizing gaze. Accident prone, bumbling Neville; the butt to so many jokes among his classmates, it was not the Neville Ginny knew. Not the Neville who had been such a gentleman the night of the Yule Ball her third year at Hogwarts. Harry was amazing, she loved him more than breathing, but even he had been too thick at age fourteen to treat her with the same regard that Neville had. "What did the hat say to you?" she asked him. "Before placing you in Gryffindor, what did it say?"

Neville stared at the sword mutely for a moment, and Ginny wasn't sure if he was going to tell her or not. Maybe it was too personal for him to share, and she nearly apologized for even asking before he finally spoke.

"It told me that I was a Gryffindor, before speaking it out loud in front of everybody it told me that's where I belonged," he said. "It recognized me immediately, saying the Longbottoms were a great family of brave witches and wizards. I agreed, of course, but not with where it wanted to place me. I asked it to put me somewhere else, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw, but the hat refused. It said it could never place someone so courageous into any house but Gryffindor. And that's when the hat announced it, not giving me another chance to argue. I accepted it, but knew it was wrong."

Ginny frowned thoughtfully, "The hat is never wrong."

Neville looked grateful, but didn't respond to that. "That's why it took so long for the hat to decide with me, not because it didn't know where to put me like people say, but because I didn't agree."

"Who said that?" Ginny asked. "Who said it didn't know where to put you?"

"Snape," Neville told her honestly. "In Potions, my first year," he shrugged as if it were nothing. "He just was making the point that I was incompetent, as usual. He said the hat took so long because it had trouble placing Squibs who shouldn't even be here, or something…I don't really remember."

Ginny caught that lie right away; of course he remembered. He remembered each and every stinging word. "That foul—" she didn't even have an offensive enough name to call that evil, horrible man, and her inability to finish her insult served only to infuriate her further.

"Forget it," Neville didn't want to talk about it anymore. "Let's just get that sword, eh?" He reached for the handle on the case door and attempted to open it. It wouldn't budge. "It's locked." He tried to open it with his wand instead, but it still wouldn't move.

"It's not locked," Ginny bent for a closer look. There was no keyhole on the door, it was magically sealed. "There's got to be a spell which opens it."

"But which one?" Neville sounded a little less sure about their plan. "Snape could have used anything, maybe even a spell we don't know."

"Maybe Dumbledore—hey, where'd he go?" Ginny spun around to inquire of Dumbledore's portrait, but found it empty. Glancing around the room, she searched the other frames hoping to find him. Over half of the portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses were empty, where they previously had been full with snoozing inhabitants. Ginny noticed that Phineas Nigellus Black was suddenly gone too. Probably roaming the halls at Grummauld place, though Ginny didn't know why he would want to, no one was there.

"Maybe they're down in the kitchens having tea," Neville suggested blandly.

Ginny passed him a withering look and reached for a heavy, leather bound spell book off the nearest shelf. Raising it over her shoulder, she took aim at the glass cabinet.

"Whoa! What're you doing?" Neville put up a hand to stop her.

"Exercising plan B."

"Stop," he got a hold of the book before she could hurl it at the glass. "Do you want to alert the whole castle to what we're up to?"

"You're right," Ginny pulled out her wand and pointed it at the door, "_Muffliato_."

"What was that?"

"The benefits of rooming with Hermione all summer," she responded and prepared to throw the book again.

"Well in that case," Neville stopped her once more, confiscating the book completely and bludgeoning the side of the case with it. It had no effect at all, merely glancing off the glass with a reverberating twang before dropping to the floor.

"Smooth," Ginny congratulated him sarcastically.

"Shut up," Neville looked around for a heavier object. Picking up a chair in front of Snape's desk, he returned to the case and threw it with all his might. This time the glass shattered effectively, causing them both to jump back to avoid getting hit with a spray of sharp projectiles.

Ginny dashed to the cabinet and reached for the sword, pulling it out with a look of triumph in her twinkling brown eyes. "Got it," she breathed with adrenaline induced excitement. "Let's go. Luna's probably wondering what's taking so long."

"What about the mess?" Neville pointed out. "I'm thinking Snape's gonna notice something's up if we leave this."

"Right," Ginny waved her wand again, sending the broken glass flying back into place as if nothing had touched it. "That should do it."

"Are you sure you're only a sixth year?" Neville grabbed the door and whipped it open, standing back for Ginny to dart through first. They hurried down the stairs, attempting to move fast even with the weight of the heavy sword slowing Ginny down. It was awkward to carry, and she didn't want to drop it.

"Do you have anything to cover it with?" Neville asked. "Someone's going to notice you walking with it back to the Common Room. We need to hide it before anyone sees—" He stopped, nearly running into Ginny as she pulled up halfway down the staircase in alarm.

"See what, Longbottom?" Snape asked with a sneer, standing at the bottom with his wand trailing a sleek, black ribbon wrapped around Luna, gagging her mouth and preventing her from making any noise. Her wand lay abandoned on the floor several feet away, out of reach and useless. "Before someone sees how incredibly idiotic the two of you are?" Snape's tone lowered to a deadly threat. "Hand over the sword, Ms. Weasley, before I take it by force."

* * *

The headmaster sat them all down in his office, facing his desk where he rested the sword and loomed over it with a menacing expression. "I am looking at a trio of fools," he spat. "A couple of unintelligent, unsuccessful thieves. Did you honestly think you would get away with stealing a valued piece of school property?" All three had gags around their mouths now; Snape didn't want answers, he only wanted to rant. "I will not tolerate thievery in my school!"

Luna jumped a little in her chair at the volume of his voice. Neville's fists tightened on his chair arms, his gaze remaining on the floor. Ginny pointedly kept her glare on the headmaster, shooting daggers of her own without flinching. Snape sensed a weakness in the three and went for Luna first.

Walking with heavy steps around the side of the desk, he stopped right in front of her and removed the gag from her mouth with an abrupt yank. "Between you and your father it would seem as though the Lovegood family is…discontent with the new order. Is that it, Ms. Lovegood? Does your father need a reminder of his loyalties? Do you?"

"No sir," Luna looked up at him and blinked with a blank expression. "We know who we're loyal to." She didn't say it to be obstinate; there was no challenge in her voice, only honestly. Snape's face darkened with dislike for her response despite her truthful tone. He opened his mouth for a sharp reply, but was cut off by the door flying open and revealing the bumbling and argumentative pair of Carrows before they stumbled into the office.

"Beggin' your pardon, headmaster," Alecto gave an odd sort of bow in Snape's direction. Both sister and brother had tell-tale red-rimmed, watery eyes and the stench of drunkenness emanating from their persons. "We did not expect you back so soon, I—"

"Silence," Snape snapped, having no patience for either of them. "My absence should have been a reason to remain at your posts, not to return early from the pub. Get your apologies straight."

"Yes, Headmaster," Amycus muttered, glaring at his sister as if it were all her fault. "Tho' to 'onest, we 'ad no way a knowin' these here would try a break in. I'm only meanin', sir, who would do sucha thing?"

"Not surprised meself," Alecto bounced on her heels with a condescending bob of her head. "Not with this 'ne in onit," she directed the accusation toward Ginny. "She's the instigator, that 'ne."

"Thank _you_," Snape stressed his desire for them both to shut their traps. "But I insist you don't let it happen again."

The Carrows ducked their heads in shame, and Ginny caught the threatening look Alecto passed her once Snape had turned away. She would pay for the Carrows' embarrassment that was certain.

Snape had forgotten about Luna, moving on to his favorite target, Neville. "I always took you for a fool, Longbottom, but even this is out of character." He relished insulting the young wizard, choosing his words carefully and searching for what would inflict the sharpest sting. "This took a certain amount of cunning, even a measure of conceit we both know you don't possess. What is this? An attempt to play the role of Potter? Wish to be a celebrity of your own?"

Ginny could tell Snape was getting to Neville. His knuckles were growing white with their strained grip on the chair arms. His breathing sounded tight in his chest, and he looked as if it was taking a great deal of effort to keep his focus on the floor in front of the desk. There was an internal struggle going on that Ginny could only guess at. Snape had been bullying Neville for years; the mixture of fear and loathing for the man must pull and tug like a terrible contradiction. To cower, or react? Neville was paralyzed.

"Did he tell you to do it?" Snape was asking. "Did Potter bequeath you with some pretentious vendetta against this establishment? And like the idiot you are, you fell for it. You longed for self-importance, to emulate your idol so you followed his rebellious cause. Tell me, Longbottom, does Potter know that your devotion to create yourself into his image means stealing his girlfriend as well?"

The accusation caused Neville to react, launching out of his seat at Snape before he was brought down by a curse which sent him to the floor. It was not cast by the headmaster, but by Amycus, who held Neville in place with the torturous effects of a Cruciatus curse. Neville contorted in pain, twisting on the floor in agony under the relentless force of Carrow's wand. Ginny could do nothing to help him as Snape had her pinned to her own chair with his wand pointed at her chest. Seething with anger, she attempted to curse him through the gag covering her mouth, desperately wishing she had her wand and a fair chance to take him straight on.

There was movement in the portrait frame over the headmaster's desk, and she saw Dumbledore return, taking a seat with a mild, but steady expression. If Snape noticed him, he didn't show it, but lifted his wand and released Ginny from her constraints. "Enough," he commanded Carrow, glaring down at Neville as if he were a pile of rubbish in his way. "Get up," he snapped.

Neville gingerly pulled himself back into his chair, sweating with labored breathing. His hands were shaking with fury, but none of them were a threat anymore. The headmaster had effectively stamped out their desire to fight for the time being. "Detention, tonight," he informed them. "All three of you will report to the Grounds Keeper at nine o'clock exactly. You will serve your detention in the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid."

Ginny's eyes widened over her gag with a look she hoped came across as fear. The detention sentencing took her off guard. Did Snape actually consider a trip through the woods with Hagrid was a punishment?

"And for you, Ms. Weasly," he added with an oily sneer. "You can look forward to an extra two Saturday detentions copying records for me. Extra punishment for the brains of the operation, it's only fair."

Ginny met his contemptuous expression with a hateful glare._ Yep_, she thought sarcastically,_ that's more like it._


	16. Chapter 16

**Foul Mood**

Detention with Hagrid was about as much a punishment as helping the House elves prepare tea in the kitchens. At sundown Ginny, Luna, and Neville were marched down to the Ground Keeper's hut by Filch and left to join Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest. There was nothing frightening about it. Hagrid was burning brush to clear overgrown patches of the forest floor. The three of them were instructed to patrol the numerous bonfires and to extinguish any renegade flames which tried to run wild.

Ginny actually found it rather enjoyable, especially when the fire dwelling salamanders emerged to bask in the glowing coals. Hagrid even supplied sausages to roast on long sticks and a cool thermos of pumpkin juice to wash them down.

Neville, Ginny, and Luna quickly gave up any pretense of their detention sentence being a burden. They were far too busy laughing over their efforts to out-smart one another in a game of toss the hot salamander without dropping it. It was the most fun Ginny had enjoyed all year.

And it would be the last.

Demelza Robins had not been pulled from school by the first of October, and she agreed to join the Gryffindor Quidditch team for another year. With every position filled, Ginny filed a permission form request with the headmaster for practice time. She loathed having to seek his authorization and had no real hopes of receiving a prompt response.

As the match against Hufflepuff grew increasingly near, the Gryffindor captain grew more and more frustrated. Snape granted consent to practice, but only for a short, one hour session after dinner three days before the match. Fuming from the injustice, Ginny tried to make the best of it, putting her team through rapid fire drills and intense flying maneuvers in the hopes that it would be enough to pull off a win.

Thankfully half of her team had played for Harry the year before and knew what was expected of them. Charlotte was her biggest problem. She had never played Seeker, never played any Quidditch for Gryffindor, and wasn't exactly a natural. Though she was quick on a broom, she was a terribly distracted daydreamer who often missed the Snitch passing right within her reach. Not to mention Charlotte had an issue with being outdoors in uncomfortable conditions. She constantly complained about flying in the cold, October air, certain she would obtain frostbite and loose her fingers or something just as dramatic.

"Bloody hell, Charlotte." Ginny snapped at her roommate near the end of their measly allotted practice hour. "Then why don't you catch the Snitch early so we can all be drinking cocoa by the fire before Hufflepuff even mounts their brooms." She sent them off to the locker rooms soon after with a word of encouragement but no real confidence that they would be able to pull it off.

The day of the match was cool with a brisk wind but a warm sun in a clear blue sky. Ginny was thankful the weather was prime but hoped the glare of the sun wouldn't obscure Charlotte's chances of catching the Snitch. After a quick pep talk to her mute and disparaged teammates, Ginny led the way out to the pitch.

Snape was sitting in the stands amid all the other teachers. The whole school had turned out simply for a change from the mundane and structured atmosphere of the castle. Amycus Carrow was in charge of reffing, something the Gryffindor team noticed right off. Not only that, but his sister was sitting in the announcer's booth beside Harper, the Slytherin Seeker, who apparently would be commentating the match.

"Well, this should be fair," Coote muttered.

"At least we're not playing Slytherin," Demelza tried to stay positive.

"No, that will come later," Seamus grumbled, shouldering his broom.

"Alright," Ginny put an end to the negative banter. "Let's go."

Things went about as well as the Gryffindors expected. Hufflepuff had hardly more experience than Ginny and her team. The match-up was actually rather fair to start off, but if there was any question of favoritism against the Gryffindors, it was quickly proven. Only minutes into the game, Carrow awarded Hufflepuff a free shot at the goal rings after Peakes shot a Bludger at one of their Chasers. Ginny argued that he was only doing what a Beater was supposed to do, in which Carrow answered with another call in favor of Hufflepuff on account of Gryffindor's captain delaying the game.

Alecto and her Slytherin puppet conversed in the commentator's booth, and Harper quite rudely announced both of the foul shots for Hufflepuff, while pointing out the childish way Captain Ginny Weasley reacted to the call.

Fuming, Ginny accelerated away from the stands and refocused on the match. With the score twenty to zero in favor of Hufflepuff, Seamus obtained the Quaffle and passed it off to Ginny. She maneuvered her way through the converging line of defenders toward the goal hoops across the pitch. The left one was wide open. She took aim and—Wham!

A Bludger collided with her upper arm, knocking the Quaffle out of her grip and sending a shock wave of pain into her shoulder. Hufflepuff hesitated taking possession, fully expecting a foul just as Gryffindor had received. No whistle blew, the Bludger shot was ignored in this case, and the game continued.

Demelza took advantage of Hufflepuff's confusion and dove for the Quaffle, darting in for a speedy goal before the Keeper even had time to react. Gryffindor House jumped in the stands with a cheer as the Quaffle shot through the goal hoop. The score was now twenty to ten.

That wasn't the end of the unfair treatment or the injuries. Thirty minutes into the match, with the score up forty to thirty, Gryffindor now in the lead, Demelza caught a pass from Ginny and prepared to score again. Hufflepuff Keeper, a fellow sixth year, attempted a block and succeeded. He knocked the Quaffle back at Demelza, hitting her in side the face with a nasty crunch as it hit against her temple. There was a collective gasp from the crowd as the wounded Chaser spun on her broom in the air and landed on the pitch with unsteady feet, blinking rapidly with running, watery eyes. Her temple was bright red where the Quaffle had made contact, and it immediately began to swell.

Ginny flew to her aid along with the rest of the Gryffindor team. Professor McGonagall began to rush in from the stands, but Carrow stopped her. "No delaying the game!" he yelled over the noise of the crowd. "Bring in your replacement and get back in the air!"

"We don't have a replacement!" Ginny yelled back.

"Then Gryffindor forfeits!"

A roar of disagreement shook the stands littered with jeers and catcalls from the Slytherins.

"No, wait!" Demelza held up a quaking hand. "I can play."

"You're mental!" Seamus shook his head, glancing at Ginny for help.

She frowned. He was right, Demelza probably was in no state to play. But she didn't want to forfeit either.

"I can play," Demelza repeated insistently. "I can."

Glancing in the direction where McGonagall stood on the sidelines, Ginny desperately longed for some kind of assurance that she was making the right decision. McGonagall's hand twitched so fast that Ginny nearly missed it. She would have passed it off as nothing if it weren't for the small gasp Demelza expelled beside her.

Looking over in alarm, Ginny saw her fellow Chaser touch the side of her forehead gingerly. "It's fine," she said. "It doesn't even hurt. I'm okay."

Darting a glance back at McGonagall, Ginny could find no sign that the professor had performed any magic, but she wasn't the only one who was suspicious. Alecto Carrow was also watching her colleague with narrow eyes and a disdainful scowl.

"What's it gonna be then?" her brother demanded impatiently.

"We're playing," Ginny responded automatically. "She's fine, no forfeit."

"Get in the air then!" Carrow snapped, raising his whistle to his grizzly face and blowing sharply.

As her team mounted their brooms again, Ginny sped up to have a quick word with her Seeker. "Any sign of it yet?" she asked.

"I thought maybe once," Charlotte told her. "But I think it was just the sun glinting off of something in the stands."

"Okay," Ginny tried not to sound too frustrated. She herself had seen the Snitch twice while flying, but Charlotte had always been looking the other way. "Keep your eyes peeled."

The match continued in its same dismal way. Hufflepuff regained the advantage and the lead as the result of more ridiculous calls from the ref. Between him and Harper's one-sided, insulting commentary, Ginny grew increasingly short tempered. She had just connected the Quaffle with the middle goal hoop to score, shortening Hufflepuff's lead to eighty-fifty. She curved into a lazy dive as Hufflepuff grabbed the Quaffle and that's when she saw it, a glitter of golden wings not two feet from Charlotte's broom.

Trying not to draw too much attention to herself, Ginny took matters into her own hands. Whisking toward her Seeker, she grabbed Charlotte's hand and, much to her alarm, closed it around the Snitch before it could disappear again.

A deafening cheer exploded from the stands, and it didn't matter that Harper wasn't announcing the win. Everyone knew Gryffindor had the Snitch.

Carrow was blowing his whistle like a maniac with an infuriated, dark look on his face. Ginny and Charlotte were swarmed by their teammates as they sunk back to the ground and dismounted their brooms. McGonagall was smirking with pleasure, but Snape didn't appear to share her sentiment.

Tired of trying to quiet the crowd with his whistle, Carrow stormed over to the announcer's booth and stole the megaphone from Harper. "Quiet!" he bellowed and gained instant silence in the stands. "Due to the fact that Gryffindor's captain cheated to get the Snitch," he looked at Ginny with a vindictive sneer. "That's an automatic disqualification. Hufflepuff wins."

The spectators were in an uproar. Even the Hufflepuff Quidditch team questioned the fairness of his ruling.

"I did not cheat!" Ginny dropped her broom and stepped forward. Her cheeks were flushed with fury, her hair falling in a disheveled mess about her shoulders. She still had a tight hold on Charlotte's wrist on the hand that held the fluttering Snitch. "Her skin touched the Snitch! Test it; it will only answer to her. I never touched it!"

"You forced her!" Carrow boomed through the megaphone. "She had to catch it herself or it doesn't count. You cheated, you lose!"

Ginny dropped Charlotte's wrist and charged forward, drawing her wand from her robes in a blind rage. "I did not cheat, you pig-faced—"

A spell hit her chest and knocked her abruptly to the ground. It had not come from Amycus, or even Alecto, but from Snape. He stood in the middle of the teacher's section of the stands looking dangerous with his wand raised.

"Every student back to their dormitories at once," he commanded a silent and stunned audience. "Everyone but Ms. Weasley."

Ginny couldn't have moved even if she wanted too. The air had been knocked from her lungs, and she lay on the cold ground trying to breathe as the stands cleared with remarkable efficiency. When she finally managed to roll into a sitting position and get to her feet, no one was left but Snape, the Carrows, and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Move on, you lot!" Alecto screeched indignantly.

"Let them stay," Snape wasn't bothered. He stepped down to the pitch and loomed before the team with his robes billowing in the breeze. "This concerns all of them." Scowling down his greasy nose, he met Ginny's glare. "Here we are again, Ms. Weasley. This time your impertinence has not only cost you, but will cost your friends as well. One hundred points from Gryffindor," he snapped.

"Are we still getting those?" Ginny couldn't help but respond snidely.

This time Alecto didn't hold back, hitting her with a stinging hex across the face.

Ginny held back a yep, managing to maintain her composure despite the pain.

Snape went on as if he had never been interrupted. "On top of that, Gryffindor is under permanent ban from playing Quidditch at this school."

The team knew better than to react to that announcement, though the fire of rage burning in Ginny's gut grew hotter.

"Your brooms will be confiscated until further notice." Snape continued, banishing each broom from the hands of their owners into a pile for the Carrows to gather up and remove. "And for you," he directed his attention back on Ginny. "For your inability to control your temper, I ought to expel you completely—"

"Then why don't you?" Ginny cut in. She was growing very weary of the headmaster's enjoyment in goading her to anger. Why couldn't he just get to the point and slap her with another ridiculous punishment and end it?

Her comment only served to please his sick ego further. "I'm sure you would love that, wouldn't you?" he smirked. "Any excuse to leave and search for your boyfriend."

And there he went with the Potter bashing again. Harry wasn't even at school, and Snape just couldn't break off with the insults; he was obsessed.

"I think not, Ms. Weasley," he wasn't going to allow her that triumph. "I have a better use for you. Prepare to spend your Saturday morning in the dungeons from here on out. Filch has requested we put them to use again, but he informs me they are in need of a good scrubbing. Apparently the rats have taken up residence since last they were in use. You'll have plenty to keep you busy now that your duties as captain have been suspended indefinitely."

He dismissed them to clean up and return promptly to Gryffindor tower.

"I'm sorry, mates," Ginny apologized to her team. She had not only lost them their right to play, but their brooms as well.

"Don't fret, Ginny," Charlotte put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "They were completely unfair. It wasn't your fault."

The others expressed their sympathy for her frustration.

"Thanks anyway," she told them, giving her last instruction as captain. "Hang up your robes. I'll see you back in the common room."

"Where are you going?" Demelza asked.

"To drown myself in the prefect bathtub," she grumbled and left her ex-team at the locker room doors, walking up to the castle alone.

* * *

When word spread that Gyffindor had been banned from playing Quidditch, a muted uproar rose among the students. That, plus Ginny and Neville's attempt to steal Gryffindor's sword, discipline had increased ten-fold within the school. The Carrows were cracking down hard on every minor offense. The rise of regulation brought an increased desire to rebel. While Ginny became familiar with the dank interior of the castle dungeons, Neville and several members of what remained of Dumbledore's Army were implementing a plan.

It was against the rules to be out of their Common Rooms after evening meal. To accomplish their task the schemers had to work in shifts of two. After their last class let out in the afternoon, they met in the common room and began carrying out the prank. Seamus and Neville had been up late the night before preparing, and Lavender and Parvati were inlisted to help with the handwriting. Hiding behind the notice board in the common room were ten large poster boards pasted with enlarged and replicated photos of Harry taken from a copy of the Quibbler which Ginny had kept from being destroyed. Under each portrait were the words WE BELIEVE in bright, white paint.

Pairing up with a poster a piece, the groups of two filtered out of Gyffindor Tower when the coast was clear and took turns hanging them in the corridors outside of classrooms. Where they could manage, they would remove a currently hanging painting from its frame, replace it with a poster and hurry back to the common room with the frame-less canvas and its willing occupant. By the time Ginny returned from detention in the dungeons, smelling foul and feeling spiteful, all the posters of Harry had been spread about the castle. A row of canvasses lined the floor, propped against bookcases and empty chairs. The portraits chatted animatedly with one another and the Gryffindor Tower portraits, quite thrilled with their temporary relocation despite the rather uncomfortable loss of their frames. They all seemed to share the opinion that it was a small sacrifice to make for the cause.

It didn't take long for the posters to be found by the school staff. A ripple of conversation had risen around the tables during the evening meal from students who had seen the prank themselves and admired it. It didn't matter that not everyone had the opportunity to read the message painted on each poster. Within the hour everyone knew what it said and why.

The Carrows were furious, and Snape stormed down from his office after dinner demanding the entire school return to the Great Hall immediately. In front of four rows of silent House tables, the headmaster glared from behind his shroud black hair as each poster was brought in and tossed into a pile before the High Table.

"Mark my words," he began with a deep and even scowl, "the culprits behind this pitiful act of rebellion will be found out." He had to barely raise his voice for it to echo off the rafters in the silent space. "The missing portraits will be found, and the thieves who took them will be severely punished!"

With a flick of his wand the pile of posters ignited into flames. Smoke billowed up toward the ceiling and photos curled and turned to ash. Ginny's stomach hardened into a molten knot as she watched Harry's face burn, his eyes staring from the page with a determined look below his lightning scar.

Neville saw the fire but wasn't watching it as Ginny was. He was searching the faces of his fellow Gryffindors, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs. They all sat mesmerized by the glow of the fire devouring the bright, white print on the page. WE BELIEVE. For the first time in months nearly the entirety of the school were united in something other than fear. They were resolute. The prank, and whatever inevitable punishment it resulted in, had been entirely worth that one moment of unity.

Snape could take away all their privileges. He could force them to march in straight lines to each class. He could demand silence during meal times in the Great Hall, but he could not douse their spirit. He was simply igniting it further.

More and more students resolved not to follow the Carrow's sick lesson plans. More preferred a stint in the dungeon to being the objects of their demented whims. The poster incident was an inspiration to more "Potter Snapshots," as they soon became known. Simple little reminders that the Chosen One was still out there somewhere, alive and fighting. His name appeared scrawled on bathroom stalls, classroom desks, and even inside library books. Madame Pince was furious at the defamation of her precious volumes, but it was a boost for any student to open a cover and see Harry Potter penned in rich black ink across the title page.

Michael Corner was so inspired that he skipped an entire lunch period to sneak about the corridors bewitching the suits of armor to repeat the phrase: "Long live Harry Potter!" Unfortunately his charms abilities weren't exactly up to par and half of them shouted only nonsense such as "Long hairy lives!" or the like. A suite outside of the Muggle Studies classroom bellowed one word at full volume for nearly an hour: "Potter, Potter, Potter!" Alecto became so irate she finally blasted the suite of armor into pieces. It lay shattered in the hall the rest of the day, groaning and muttering Harry's name like a broken and despondent record.

A small war was being raged within the walls of the castle. Many students looked to Ginny and Neville for leadership. Meetings were held in secret, mostly in the Gryffindor common room late at night. Ideas for new pranks and Potter Snapshots were tossed back and forth, but mostly they talked about Harry himself. Harry, Ron, and Hermione and the ongoing question of where they might be.

Seamus was the one to pick up the wireless broadcast of Potterwatch in the evenings when they were banned to their dormitories. The Gryffindors sat about the fire in their common room after curfew and listened for any scrap of news on what was happening outside of Hogwarts. Few students received much more than hints from their scarce letters from home, and both the _Quibbler_ and the _Daily Prophet_ were not allowed on school grounds any longer. They were virtually in the dark, knowing only that things were grim. Ginny tried not to worry about Harry and what that might mean for him. The wizarding world would know instantly if he were captured or killed, but what about Ron? Was he still with Harry? Would anyone know if something happened to him, or even Hermione?

Ginny hadn't received another letter from Bill, and the messages from home told her next to nothing about what was going on with the Order. Her occasional chats with Hagrid were just as annoyingly uninformative. Ginny knew nothing and, as the weather turned bitter and Christmas holidays approached, she had never longed to go home more than she did right then.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: As much as I'm into this story, the absence of Harry makes it a bit dull for me. I'm skipping ahead a bit in an effort to get to the good stuff, the final battle while (hopefully) not missing any important plot points. Bear with me, Harry will return to this story soon!  
**

**Lovegood's Holiday**

Christmas holidays did finally arrive, and never before had so many students jumped at the chance to board the train home. Ginny didn't know of a single person who had signed up to stay at school. Not even the Slytherins wanted to endure such a depressing holiday. The night before they were to go home, the sixth and seventh year Gryffindors sat up late in the common room. It was a relief that their first term was over, and many were wishing they wouldn't be returning for the second.

"What would they do if none of us showed up first day back?" Seamus asked.

"Cheer, most likely," Neville snorted derisively.

"No, I mean none of us. Not one student back."

"The Slytherins would come back no matter what," Parvati pointed out. "It would be an all Slytherin school. We can't have that."

"They would hunt us down," Ginny spoke up from where she sat curled up in a chair close to the fire. It was the first thing she had said all night; she had been unusually quiet and distant since they had all congregated after dinner. "Ron had to use our ghoul in the attic as a disguise so they wouldn't torture my parents to find out where he was. They don't want to be rid of us, they want to control us. What better place to do that than at Hogwarts?"

"But they know Ron is Harry's best mate, don't they?" Seamus responded. "They want him because they want Harry. What do they care about us? We're just a bunch of misfit kids causing trouble in class."

"Umbridge freaked when we banned together just for a practice defense group," Ginny made her point. "They can't have us running off joining secret 'Down with the Dark Lord' organizations, now can they?"

"You're in a fine mood."

"Yeah, cheer up, Gin," Charlotte nudged her with her toe. "It's Christmas."

Ginny returned to her sullen silence and let the others talk among themselves. What a _fine_ Christmas it would be too. Ginny could just imagine what state her mother would be in when she got home. No Percy, no Ron…the insufferable 'Phlem' hanging all over Bill and sniggering about Celestina Warbeck on the wireless, she couldn't wait. It was true, Ginny wanted to go home. She just wished there would be a happier place to go home too. It would be her job to keep the spirits up, no doubt. Fred and George would help, but with all their good intentions more often than not they just exasperated their mother further. One thing Ginny was really looking forward to was seeing her father. He would be a welcome sight and might just have some scrap of news about the war and Harry's whereabouts that he would be willing to share when Molly wasn't listening.

With that positive thought, Ginny excused herself to go to bed. The sooner she could fall asleep, the sooner she would be on the train home the next morning.

As usual, Neville found them an empty compartment for him, Ginny, and Luna to share for the ride to London. Seamus joined them as well, not having Dean to hang out with this time. A heavy snow was falling outside on the platform at the Hogsmeade station, and the students quickly boarded the train so as not to get sopping wet.

"Is it really necessary for them to tag along?" Ginny pressed her face against the window and watched as the scowling faced crew of Death Eaters climbed onto the train just before it lurched forward to begin its journey south. "What do they think we're going to do on a speeding train, stop and meet up with Harry in the wilderness someplace?"

Neville hit her knee with his, getting her to shut up as one of the Death Eaters approached the compartment and glared through the glass window. Checking for what, they didn't know, but all four of them stared back without blinking until he moved on to inspect the next compartment down the line. Seamus muttered a foul insult at the Death Eater's back and settled into his seat, propping his feet up on the opposite bench. "Well, I'm done lads," he yawned. "Wake me when we reach London."

The trip was eerily quiet, even more so than their trip to school at the beginning of term. The snow stuck with them all the way to the outskirts of London, leaving a heavy blanket of thick, wet mush. The slate grey sky was obscured with swirling white and the glass of the compartment window was foggy with condensation. Out of habit, Ginny used the tip of her finger to draw a series of HP's all along the window edge. In the corner she even tried a GP to see how it looked but quickly smudged it out before anyone saw.

When the Express pulled into King's Cross, they all stood and grabbed their things. Ginny searched for her parents out on the platform, but didn't see either one of them. Instead she saw the identical faces of her twin brothers walking toward her over the mass of harried students queuing up to slip through the enchanted platform exit in the wall.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as they approached.

"Figured we fancied a stroll," Fred replied.

"What do you think we're doing here?" George asked.

"Where's Mum?"

"Waiting for you at home," George reached for her trunk and nabbed a free trolley to set it on. "And rather anxiously, I might add, so let's get a move on."

Ginny opened her mouth in confusion, but Fred stopped her from saying anything more. "I dare say you've noticed it's snowing out there, and I don't care to freeze my knickers waiting for you all day. Carry your bag, sis?"

"No, I got it," Ginny accepted the situation without further questions, waving to Neville before he disappeared with his grandmother. Shouldering her bag, she turned to Luna standing nearby gazing vacantly at the crowd leaving the platform.

"Happy holidays, Luna."

"You too!" she smiled comfortably.

"Do you…" Ginny glanced around. "How are you getting home?"

"Oh, my dad is on his way," Luna assured her. "He'll be here any minute. He probably last track of time, working on a new story—"

"Right," Ginny cut in before she went off on whatever strange make-believe creature Mr. Lovegood was writing about next. "Would you like to come with us? You could use the Floo Network from my house."

Luna shook her head. "No, he'll be coming and if I'm not here, he'll worry."

"Okay," Ginny wasn't so sure she liked the idea of leaving Luna there alone, but Fred and George seemed rather impatient, and it was freezing standing there on the emptying platform. "I'll see you at the end of holiday then."

Luna nodded with another pleasant smile, bouncing on the balls of her feet while she waited expectantly for her father to arrive.

Ginny followed her brothers out through the platform barrier, through the Muggle section of King's Cross, and out into the slushy, grimy streets of London. The snow storm had moved in from the north and was settling itself over the city, dusting the concrete and cobblestones with a cleansing layer of whitewash. George waved for a Muggle cab and soon they were winding their way through traffic to the Leaky Cauldron.

Ginny almost hoped they would stop for a quick cup of tea or steaming butterbeer to ward off the chill, but Tom's usually bustling inn wasn't so cozy anymore. What few patrons he had seemed in no mood for cheer and rushed about between the entrance to Diagon Alley and the Muggle streets outside the inn without speaking to anyone.

George led the way back out into the early evening air, encouraging Ginny's trunk before him with his wand in the direction of Weasleys' Wizard Weezes. Ginny had seen many changes come over Diagon Alley since Voldemort's return to power, but never like this. It seemed as though Fred and George's shop was the only one open anymore. A few witches and wizards darted in and out of Gringotts, but that was the only activity Ginny saw before the three of them ducked into a side alley around the corner to the front entrance of the shop.

"Read this," Fred shoved a slip of paper into Ginny's hand where they stood staring at what appeared to be a solid wall. She glanced at the paper and read the sloppy writing.

_The hidden cellar of Fred and George Weasley resides on the left hand wall of Weasleys' Wizard Weezes, Diagon Alley, London._

As soon as she read the directions a door appeared in front of them and the twins shuffled her inside.

"Lumos," Fred muttered giving light to a dark hallway in a chilly stairwell Ginny had never been in before.

"A hidden cellar?"

"Yes, a hidden cellar," George grunted, maneuvering the truck so it would fit in the narrow space.

"When did you get a cellar?"

"Since yesterday," Fred responded snidely. "We raised the whole building and had it put in just for your arrival."

"Shut up you dolt," Ginny snapped in response. "It was just a question. I never knew you had one."

"Hence the operative word, _hidden_," George explained. "At first it was just a sort of warehouse and laboratory for our experiments, some of which the current Ministry wouldn't approved of if they knew we were conducting them within the city limits. Now it holds a little more importance. Come on."

They hurried down a winding, stone stair which ended in a dank, musty basement cluttered with boxes and crates of joke shop merchandise. Ginny lit her own wand, disregarding the underage magical ineligibility and banking on the protection of being with her two brothers to guard her from any retribution. Casting a ray of light about the tight space, she investigated the work benches loaded down with potion vials, Bunsen burners, and crusty cauldrons. "Could use a bit of a scourging, wouldn't you say boys?"

"Yes, _mum_," George muttered ungraciously. "Don't touch that," he slapped her hand away from a fluffy stuffed spider sitting on a wooden box. "She bites."

The spider scuttled away from Ginny's lit wand and disappeared into the shadows. "Bloody hell," she shivered, "how do you two work down here?"

"It's not so bad with the lanterns lit."

"Then perhaps you should light them," Ginny shook her head. How dense they could be?

"No time," George shook his head. "We told Mum we'd have you home right away."

"Does your hidden cellar come with a hidden tunnel out of London too then?"

"Close," Fred ducked behind a wall of crates and pulled a drop cloth from its pegs across a damp stone wall. Underneath, a soot-stained fireplace grate appeared. It was cramped and layered with muck and massive, drapping spider webs, but it was a working fireplace complete with a tin container of Floo powder.

"We couldn't have used the one in your flat?" Ginny wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Can't," George informed her. "It's being monitored by the Ministry."

"Even for me? Why would they care if you were sending me home?"

"Why do they care about anything we do?" he pointed out. "But they do, so Mum and Dad want us to be careful. No one knows about this fireplace but us. Quite useful if I do say so myself; a perfect escape route."

Ginny thought about this with some discomfort. "You think you'll be needing one then?"

"Gin," Fred leaned against the mantel and held out the Floo powder. "With things headed the way they are…we all will."

"Go on," George nodded. "Mum's waiting."

"You're not coming with me?" Ginny reached for a handful of powder as Fred shoved her trunk inside the cramped opening.

"Not tonight. We'll see you tomorrow for Christmas Eve though."

Ginny climbed in after her trunk and held on for dear life. "See you later then," dropping her fistful of powder, she felt the surge of green flames reach up and lick her arms and face. "The Burrow," she spoke over the roar, and she instantly began to spin, passing grate after grate until lurching to a stop in front of the welcome sight of her own kitchen at home.

"Ginevra?"

"Mum?" Stumbling out onto the hearth, Ginny brushed away a flurry of ashes and let her things drop to the floor just as Molly flew from the sink and crushed her in a tight embrace.

"You made it!"

"Of course," Ginny laughed with a roll of her eyes, but she squeezed back just as tightly. It had been a long day, and there was nothing better than the familiar sights and smells of home.

"Sit," Molly bustled her to the table. "I'll pour you a cup of tea. I want to hear everything about school and your trip home."

"Everything?" Ginny raised an eyebrow and did as she was told. If she told Molly everything there would be no way she would be allowed to return for the next term. It was a tempting proposition, but Ginny decided it was best to skip over the darkest details. "Any word from Ron?" she asked after a steaming cup of tea had been set before her.

Molly sat down with a mug of her own and a soft smile of pity. "Nothing," she shook her head. "We're sure they're okay though, dear. Try not to fret."

"Oh, like you aren't sick with worry yourself," Ginny couldn't help but point out.

"We all are," Molly didn't deny it. "But what good does it do, then? The Order is following every lead and doing everything they can to keep tabs on them, but the harder it is for us to find them, the better. If we don't even know where they are, then You-Know-Who certainly doesn't either."

"I know that," Ginny grumbled with a heavy sigh. "I just want to know if they're okay. It's freezing out there. Do they even have a place to stay?"

"Your father told me he borrowed Hermione Perkin's old tent you used for the World Cup."

This was news to Ginny. "Camping out?" she responded incredulously. "In the snow?"

"They've got wands, Ginevra," Molly laughed. "They'll manage, I'm sure."

How odd it was for Ginny to worry when her mother obviously wasn't. Of course Molly had known about the tent and the possibility of Harry, Ron, and Hermione camping out for a while. It was going to take a few minutes for it all to sink in for Ginny. This meant that they could be anywhere. They could be camping out on the next hill for all they knew, maybe even within sight of the Burrow right then. The thought made Ginny's stomach do an odd sort of flip. If only that were the case; she would wander all night looking for them, snow or not.

Molly reached across the table and squeezed her hand, interrupting her thoughts. "Your father is out getting a tree. Why don't you help me bring down the decorations from the attic, we can have this place looking festive before your brothers join us tomorrow. Cheer up, dear. It's Christmas."

"So I heard," Ginny mumbled, but fixed a smile on her face and got up to oblige her mother's holiday making. She had been wrong after all. It wasn't Molly who needed cheering up; she was the one encouraging Ginny not to fret. Maybe, if they were all willing to try, it would be a merry Christmas in spite of everything.

Two hours later they had made a fine start on the decorating of the sitting room. Molly looked up from sorting through a box of ornaments to notice that a hand on her special clock had begun to move. It was Arthur's indicator, and it had moved to traveling. "You're father's nearly home," she piped up enthusiastically. "Move that armchair, Ginevra. We'll put the tree in front of the window. I need to stir the stew; we'll eat as soon as the tree is set."

Arthur Weasley burst through the door a moment later, but he wasn't carrying a tree. He looked disheveled and in a rush, his face flushed and his hat askew on his head. "Molly," he gasped for breath. "Oh, Ginny, thank Merlin you're home safe."

"Arthur, whatever is the matter?" Molly looked alarmed, soup spoon dripping in her hand where she had carried it from the kitchen at the sound of her husband's arrival. "What happened?"

"Is it Harry?" Ginny looked fearful, losing a little color in her face.

"No," Arthur waved her off, hushing them both. "No, it's Kingsley. He used the Taboo by accident, gave himself away. The Snatchers went after him, but he got away."

"Thank heavens," Molly looked ruffled. "Where did he go?"

Arthur shrugged, "Not a clue, but he's on the run. He'll be fine. I'm just glad they didn't catch him." Taking a deep, steadying breath, he sank into the chair Ginny had just moved for the nonexistent tree. It was then he noticed the explosion of decorations and closed his eyes in frustration. "Oh, Molly I'm sorry. I completely forgot about the tree."

"Fine, Arthur, fine. We'll send word for Fred and George to bring one tomorrow. Come, the stew is piping hot. I'll get the bread out of the oven. Ginevra, set the table."

"Yes, Mum," Ginny watched her father carefully. "Do you think he'll go in search of Harry?" she asked.

"Who, Kingsley?" Arthur removed his jacket and slipped out of his soggy work shoes. "I doubt that very much, Ginny."

"Why? He can't go back to the Ministry, what else is he going to do?"

"Work for the Order, for one. No one knows where Harry is, not even Kingsley. It would be a waste of time to look for him now."

"A waste?" Ginny scoffed in frustration. How could he say that?

"My dear, you know better than anyone that if Harry wanted us to know where he was he would send word. If any of us were to even come across the three of them, he would send us back just to ensure he wasn't putting us in danger. If Hermione and Ron weren't so insistent, they would have been left behind as well."

"Well then be _insistent_!" Ginny struggled to keep her voice down. She didn't want to bring her mother in on the conversation; she would just put an end to it and she would never get her father to speak about it again. "We should be searching for them. What if they need the Order's help and all we're doing is hiding and sneaking around by way of secret Floo Networks? This is pointless!"

"I will say it again and no more," Arthur raised a stern finger of warning at his daughter. "If Harry wanted our help, he would ask for it. Enough said. Now go set the table like your mother asked."

Ginny crossed her arms defiantly, but said no more. If she ever…_when_ she saw Harry again she had a mind not speak to him out of spite. Just because she was underage... It wasn't as if she was fragile! He was just fine with Ron and Hermione's help, but not hers?

"Don't hate the man for simply wanting to protect you," Arthur read her thoughts with a knowing grin. "Some would call that love."

Ginny rolled her eyes with a snort and left the room. She hated it when her father was right and wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

The next few days moved by in slow motion. Fred and George arrived on Christmas Eve as promised with a scraggly looking tree with hardly any needles on it. "It was all we could find," George explained. "Maybe next time you don't wait until the day before Christmas to get a tree."

"I wasn't complaining," Ginny attempted to hang garland from the pathetic branches. "I'm just concerned with the flammability of this shrub standing so close to the candles in the window."

"We'll keep a bucket handy," Fed wasn't too fussed about it. "Get that cat away from our shrubbery," he kicked Crookshanks out from under the tree. "What's he still doing here anyway?"

"Couldn't very well send him away, could we?" Molly entered the sitting room with a tray of cookies and hot cocoa. "Where would he go with Hermione gone and her parents out of the country?"

"I guess we do need a tree topper to replace the old garden gnome."

"Don't you dare," Ginny admonished her brother, picking up the cat and moving him out of harm's reach. She hated to admit it, but she had become rather fond of the pug-faced beast and he of her. Crookshanks even shared her room at night with Hermione gone. He usually slept in the spare bed that she use to use, but every so often he would jump up and steal most of Ginny's pillow when he fancied some company.

"Well that's a disappointment," Molly held a bit of parchment from a letter she had just received from Bill's owl.

"What's that, Mum?" George leaned over her shoulder.

"They're not coming for Christmas," she appeared appalled at the thought. "How could Bill not come for Christmas? Says he and Fleur want to have a quiet holiday at Shell Cottage by themselves. Why would they want that?"

Fred and George exchanged grins with Ginny. "I could think of a few reasons," Fred snickered.

Molly folded the letter with a huff. "Well, it just won't be the same is all."

"Mum, it wouldn't have been anyway," Ginny pointed out. "Percy and Ron gone too…"

"And Harry," George watched her carefully with a touch of sympathy in his tone.

"No," Molly was determined not to let so many absences get her down. "It's fine, really. We'll just have to make do. Any one for more cocoa?"

No one had even begun to drink theirs but none of them stopped her from excusing herself to the kitchen to make more. Ginny was sure that her mother's eyes were a bit red when she returned to the sitting room a few minutes later, but nothing was mentioned about this either. It was commendable that it had taken Molly that long to give in to a good cry as it was, no one was about to begrudge her that one moment of weakness. Ginny herself wouldn't have minded a good cry herself, had it been her nature to do so. It wasn't, so instead she spent most of her holiday attempting to fill her mother's time with lighthearted conversation.

Once Christmas was over, they distracted themselves with indoor chores around the Burrow. Molly didn't want to leave the decoration cleanup for after Ginny had gone back to school, so two days before the holidays were up, they set about packing them back in there boxes to be returned to the attic. It was a tiresome chore which Ginny had no heart for, but she did her best to remain cheerful. Arthur even skipped out on half a day of work to assist them in giving the sitting room a nice facelift, moving and rearranging furniture in what ended up being a more chaotic arrangement then the original configuration.

"Well, it's a change anyway," Molly focused on the positive and concentrated on dusting a shelf full of nick-knacks over the sofa while Ginny removed cobwebs from above a corner cabinet. Arthur abstracted an old mechanics catalog from behind the piano with some difficulty.

"I'd been wondering where this had gone," he muttered.

"It's rubbish, Arthur," Molly squinted at the title on the torn cover. "Throw it in the bin."

Arthur didn't object, but Ginny notice him tuck it into the inside pocket of his rain slicker to take out to the shed later when Molly wasn't looking.

There was an unexpected knock at the door, and Molly glanced in surprise at her clock expecting to see one of her children's indicators pointed at home. Other than Ginny's they were all pointed elsewhere, at work or like Ron in his perpetual position of 'traveling.' "Who could that be?" she looked to Arthur. "We weren't expecting anyone, were we?"

Arthur shook his head in confusion, pulling out his wand and going to the door. "Who's there?" he demanded with his hand on the latch.

"It's me," came the raised response. "Remus Lupin, known werewolf and husband to Nymphadora Tonks."

"Password?" Arthur demand.

"_Our hope is marked with lightning's scar_," he responded without hesitation.

Molly nodded at her husband, and Arthur unlocked the door with a flick of his wand, pulling it open to reveal Lupin who stood wrapped in a thick traveling cloak with a hood obscuring his face. "What brings you here?" Arthur stepped back to allow him to enter the kitchen and quickly closed the door behind him. "What…my god, man! What happened to your face?"

Lupin waved the question off as if it were nothing, pushing back his hood and removing his cloak. His face was in quite a state, marked with dark bruises around his sunken eyes, broken with deep, healing scratches from temple to jaw line. "It doesn't matter," he shrugged with a quick glance at Ginny.

Arthur let it drop without further question, offering the man a seat at the table while Molly rushed to put on the tea. "Do you have news then?"

"Yes, terrible news."

Ginny's heart pounded painfully in her chest, and she gripped the broom in her hands where she stood immobile by the bottom of the stairs. She was afraid to speak in case the adults forced her out of the room to talk Order business. She needed to know, _had_ to hear what Lupin had to say.

"How far is the distance between here and Lovegood's?" Lupin asked Mr. Weasley.

"What? Xenophilius? A few miles, why?"

"Close enough to hear an explosion?"

"An explosion?" Molly nearly dropped the tea kettle in alarm. "Whatever do you mean?"

"An explosion yes, his whole house is in shambles. I've come not just to notify you, but to ask for your hospitality. Kingsley is there now, and if he is successful, he will be here any minute with Lovegood. Once they do, we should know more."

"How did you hear of it?" Arthur asked. "We didn't even know."

"Lovegood sent Kingsley a message via patronus, and S.O.S of sorts. He is hurt, Molly," Lupin looked at Mrs. Weasley. "He had been tortured by Death Eaters."

Arthur's eyes grew wide, but Molly only turned a lighter shade of pale and nodded resolutely before slipping into the mud room to retrieve medical supplies she kept on demand in a supply cupboard. Ginny knew she should offer a hand, but she didn't want to leave and chance missing one word of Lupin's explanation.

"They finally got fed up with his anti-Order writings in the _Quibbler_ then?" Arthur speculated.

"That's how it seems," Lupin nodded. "Though he hasn't printed anything in over two weeks, I don't know why they would torture him now."

"Perhaps he was intending to and the Death Eaters got wind of it somehow."

"Maybe…" Lupin didn't disagree, but his expression remained unsure with a deep frown settling in on his gaunt, bruise battered features.

There was a thud against the door outside, and both Arthur and Remus jumped to their feet. Molly ran back into the kitchen carrying a roll of clean gauze and several bandages. Arthur flung open the door without even bothering with precautions and passwords. Kingsley shuffled through the door frame with Lovegood under his arm. He was shaking uncontrollably, either from cold or from fear, it was hard to tell. His cheeks were glowing with fever, and his eyes were glazed. Lovegood's hair was a matted mess, and his robes were greasy and wrinkled from lack of wash. There was a long, bloody gash across his forehead, disappearing into his hairline, but other than that he had no other external injuries. As Lupin helped him into a chair, it was hard to tell which man was worse off. Molly ran cold water over a clean cloth and rushed in to care for Lovegood's wound.

"The house is demolished," Kingsley spoke, standing over Lovegood's chair. "We knew this would happen sometime."

"Not this way," Lupin input.

"What happened, exactly?" Arthur wanted to know everything.

"Tell them, Xeno," Kingsley encouraged the broken man. "Tell them why they were there."

"Did they destroy your printing press?" Arthur asked.

"Let him tell you," Kingsley grew impatient, placing a hand on Lovegood's shoulder as if passing him strength to speak.

"It's all my fault," Lovegood finally spoke in a gruff raised whisper. "All they came for was a story, and I nearly got us all killed."

"A story?" Molly let up with her cloth, looking confused. "What story? Who wanted a story?" She shared a glance with Arthur, and Ginny knew what they were thinking. What strange explanation were they going to get from the unique mind of Xeno Lovegood?

"The Hallows, the Hallows!" he burst out with a crazed look in his bloodshot eyes. "They wanted to know about the Hallows, about the three brothers and their encounter with Death!"

"The Tale of the Three Brothers?" Molly was even more confused. "The fairy tale?"

"Not the fairy tale," Lovegood shook his head before dropping it heavily into his open hands and speaking to the floor. "Not the bloody fairy tale…the Deathly Hallows! The cloak, the stone, and the wand!" With that he ripped a small gold piece hanging from a chain from around his neck and flung it at the floor. Ginny stepped forward cautiously and picked it up, looking at the triangular symbol surrounding a circle with a golden rod straight through it.

"The girl had the book," Lovegood spoke again in a calmer, exhausted manner. "She read the story. They wanted to know what it meant, if I thought the Hallows could actually exist."

"Who?" Arthur asked again. "Who wanted to know?"

Lovegood lifted his head and looked at Arthur as if he were daft. "Potter of course. Harry Potter."

Ginny felt as though she had been slugged in the gut. The room fell silent as they all absorbed what Lovegood had said. Only Kingsley appeared unfazed; Xeno had apparently already given him the news.

"But…" Molly stammered, trying to gather her wits. "He was there? In the explosion?"

"And the girl," Lupin interrupted, "it was Herminone. Hermione Granger?"

Lovegood nodded, dropping his heavy head once again.

"And Ron?" Arthur was next. "Was my son with them?"

"Yes."

"In the explosion?" Molly shrieked and dropped her bloodied rag.

Ginny felt her knees weaken, and she had to sit down. She still clung to the broom handle which she had completely forgotten about. It couldn't be…they can't be dead. Kingsley would have said something.

All eyes were on the Auror, pleading with him to tell them it wasn't true.

"No," Lovegood spoke up before Kingsley even had to. "They got out, I saw them. The Death Eaters know they were there. The house exploded and as the floor fell through I saw them, Harry and the girl…they disapparated."

"What about Ron?" Arthur asked. "He disapparated too, right?"

Lovegood shook his head. "I don't know, I…I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Molly was a bit panicked.

"I don't know! I didn't see him, I just saw Potter and the Granger girl, they grabbed hands and disappeared!" Lovegood looked ready to pass out, and Molly looked regretful, grabbing up the rag and going back to work on his bleeding forehead without another word.

"He must have gone too," Kingsley spoke. "I checked the place over, there was nobody left but Xeno when I got there."

"The cloak," Ginny realized out loud.

Everyone glanced back, surprised to hear her speak.

"Harry's cloak," she spoke up again. "His invisibility cloak, they must have given it to Ron so the Death Eaters wouldn't see him."

Arthur's eyebrows rose in understanding. "That's brilliant. Ron's supposed to be sick upstairs," he explained to Kingsley and Lupin. "They would have been after us next if Ron had been spotted with Harry."

"But why were they spotted at all?" Lupin wanted to know. "Why not all get under the cloak."

There was no immediate response to that, and the only sound in the room was Lovegood's sniffling and sporadic moans of grief and pain.

"Lovegood should be able to explain that as well," Kingsley nudged sardonically.

Xeno stopped whining and looked as if he'd been slapped. Glancing wildly between the expectant faces staring back at him, he swallowed and wiped the beads of sweat from his upper lip with a quaking hand. "It's my fault," he repeated. "I should have never summoned them. I know that now, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Weasley. I never meant to hurt your boy. I have always been a supporter of Potter's, but I didn't know what else to do."

"What else to do?" Lupin riled. "What else other than _betray_ Harry? Why, Xeno? Why?"

Lovegood burst into irrational tears, choking and sobbing into his hands like a desperate child. The others watched with mixed expressions of horror and disapproval. They did not know the man could stoop so low or for what possible reason.

"Mr. Lovegood?" Ginny realized something else with great trepidation. "Mr. Lovegood, where's Luna?"

* * *

Once Lovegood managed to get the entire story out, Ginny darted upstairs and hid herself inside her room. She felt sick to her stomach after all she had heard. Luna…poor Luna, Ginny knew she should have insisted on her coming home with her and the twins! She was right there on the platform, the Death Eaters probably snatched her up the moment Ginny had left her alone! She was so upset her hand shook as she attempted to write a quick note to send to Neville. Halfway through she gave up and flung the quill down in frustration.

Luna held captive by Death Eaters, Harry appearing after months without a word of his whereabouts, and Lovegood's attempt to give him up to the Dark Lord. What was going on! What was Harry thinking of, going to Xeno for help? And what was the deal with the fairy tale? What did that have to do with defeating Voldemort?

Ginny remembered the story well; it was actually one of her favorites from childhood. But other than the amazing possibility of invincibility, it was nothing but make-believe. Harry certainly couldn't have thought the Hallows were real? And even if he hoped they were, Hermione had enough sense to set him straight, didn't she?

"They've been camping out in the cold too long," Ginny mumbled to herself. "They're going insane."

Whatever they're reason, their curiosity had nearly gotten them captured or even killed. But what really bothered her the most was the fact that they were so close. Harry had been mere miles away. Ron had been so close to home, and yet they didn't even attempt to get a message to the Weasleys that they were there. Ginny knew better than to selfishly think they had the time for paying visits, but she couldn't help but feel hurt all the same. Mostly, it just made her feel lonely.

There was a soft knock at her door and, when Ginny gave permission, Molly entered from the hall. Glancing around the room, she flicked her wand toward a row of candles on the window sill and lit them, casting a warm glow to dispel the evening shadows. "Well," Molly sighed and took a seat on the edge of her daughter's bed, "at least we know they're alive."

Ginny gave a wan smile, turning in her chair away from her writing desk to face her mother. "I guess that's something," she gave a small laugh before sobering up again. "Is Luna's dad okay?"

Molly nodded. "I've bedded him up in the twin's old bedroom. Your father gave him a spot of brandy and now he's fast asleep. He'll be alright in time. I'm just glad they didn't drag him off too."

"He might be with Luna now if they had."

"Or he might be dead," Molly suggested bluntly. "And we wouldn't have ever known that they had been there. It was smart of them, covering Ron with the cloak like that."

"That will have been Hermione's doing, I'll bet," Ginny grinned for real. They were quiet a moment, both lost in thought until Molly sighed and pulled herself back to the present.

"Coming down for dinner?"

Ginny shook her head with a grimace. "I'm not hungry. I'm actually really tired."

"Come," Molly patted the bedspread and pulled it back so Ginny could climb in.

"Mum, I'm not even dressed for bed. I'm tired, but I didn't mean I'm going to sleep now."

"Well, humor me then," Molly insisted. "I want to tell you a bedtime story."

"The Three Brothers?"

"I think we could both use a reminder, don't you?"

Ginny got up and moved to the bed, curling up in a ball as Molly tucked the warm blanket under her chin. "Why do you think they wanted to know about it?"

"Who knows," Molly shrugged, as clueless as Ginny. "Must be some reason though, or they wouldn't have risked it."

"He's a bit mysterious, that Potter boy," Ginny muttered behind the bedding.

"Yes," Molly thought about it. "He reminds me of Dumbledore in that way."

Ginny looked at her mother thoughtfully. "Handsomer though."

"Well, we weren't talking looks, now were we?" Molly fussed with the comforter. "Hush now, dear. Help me remember the story and let's not see if we can figure this mystery out for ourselves."


	18. Chapter 18

**Support Harry Potter**

The consensus in the common room after Christmas Holiday was that Harry had lost it. Ginny had gone over every bit of the Tale of Three Brothers several times since her mother retold it to her the night of Lovegood's arrival at the Burrow. Sharing what she knew with her fellow Gryffindors, she was no less confused than they were about Harry's behavior.

"Too many Bludger hits on the Quidditch pitch," suggested Seamus. "He's gone nutters."

"Not if it's true," Ginny considered the possibility for the hundredth time.

"The Tale of the Three Brothers? There's no way," Milton Ryne offered his worthless opinion.

"Could be," Neville shared Ginny's hope. "Harry does have an invisibility cloak."

"Potter has an invisibility cloak?"

"That's what he just said, Ryne," Ginny shot him a dirty look from the other side of the fireplace. "Everybody knows that."

"I didn't," Milton responded defensively.

"Guess that makes you nobody."

"If the cloak is the real one," Neville put up a hand to interfere, redirecting the conversation back to what was important. "If it's one of the Hallows, then do you think he's found any of the others?"

"Probably not," Ginny responded. She had more time to think about all the possibilities and was sure that Harry had not. "If he had them all, then he wouldn't have gone to see Luna's dad. He'd already be challenging the Dark Lord to a duel, wouldn't he?"

Neville thought about this with a frown. "And all this time we thought he needed the sword."

"Maybe he wanted it for back up," Seamus grinned. "Pretty impressive sight he'd be, the Death Stick, Cloak, Stone, and the sword. You-Know-Who wouldn't stand a chance."

"Hush," Charlotte spoke up from Ginny's right, glancing warily toward the portrait hole. They were fairly certain the headmaster hadn't been listening in on their fireside chats, but none of them dared put it past him. They had already discussed finding a safer place meet and plot their ongoing resistance. Neville wanted to put the Room of Requirement back into use so that they could include the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs in their plans, but Ginny wasn't so sure about this. It had been a lot easier to sneak in and out of the Room of Requirement when Umbridge was in charge as opposed to Snape and his brother/sister duo of dimwits. Even under Umbridge they had still been allowed out of their dormitories after evening meal. It would be much more difficult to move about the corridors with such a strict early curfew always enforced.

January slipped slowly into February and the gloom of the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall mirrored the general countenance of the students. The resistance continued, but was small compared to the amount of depressed and down trodden who simply moved from lesson to lesson in a daze. Ginny knew something needed to be done to lift the spirits of her classmates, but it was Hagrid who surprisingly provided the solution.

Late one night there was a tap outside a window in Gryffindor Tower. Ginny glanced up from her homework and let her quill drop abruptly on the table with the gut wrenching feeling of having just walked through a ghost. Lavender sat closest to the window and reached to open it, just as surprised as Ginny. A white feathered owl flew into the room and landed on the back of a vacant chair. Everyone in the room stopped and stared. Ginny released the sharp intake of air she held and shook off the haunting shiver that had hung over her for only a moment. The owl did not look so much like Hedwig under a more revealing light. It was smaller with layers of gray in its tail feathers. Ginny assumed it to be one of the school owls, and she took the liberty of getting up and detaching the message it carried to see who it was for. "Gryffindor Tower," she read on the outside of a sealed roll of parchment.

"Open it," Neville encouraged her.

Ginny did, and inside she found a message from Hagrid. He had made an attempt to code it in case the owl should be intercepted, but it was rather obvious what he was requesting.

**_Gryffindors—more brush to burn, could use a little help. No need to wait for after dinner, come Saturday. Bring lanterns._**

**_Hagrid_**

"What the hell does that mean?" Seamus asked.

"Hagrid's having a party," Ginny told the entire room. "Saturday night with food, bonfires, and he wants all of us to come after dark."

Seamus still appeared confused, watching Ginny walk to the fire and dispose of the note in the flames.

"The question is," Neville stood and dismissed the owl, closing the window again behind it. "How are we all going to get down to the Forbidden Forest without getting caught?"

"Forbidden Forest?" Ryne piped up. "Are you mad? I'm not going in there."

"You'll be sorely missed," Ginny responded blandly.

"This is perfect really," Neville said. "What better way to hold a D.A. meeting than with a secret party?"

"Right," Ginny nodded resolutely. "We'll just have to make it work then."

"Too bad we don't have Harry's cloak," Charlotte said wistfully.

"More like a few dozen of them," Seams agreed.

Saturday arrived and it was evident that Gryffindor Tower wasn't the only recipient of an invitation to Hagrid's party. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were in on it as well, and Ginny wondered how Hagrid thought there was any way they _wouldn't_ get caught.

"Two or three at a time," Neville gave instructions to the group of about fifteen Gryffindors who decided to take the risk. "If you run into the Carrows one of you act like you're seconds away from a violent vomit and your mates are helping you to the hospital wing."

"Won't they wonder if several of us have the same excuse?"

"Hopefully we won't need to use it at all," he muttered, not fully confident in his own plan.

"Light your wands and raise them up when you reach Hagrid's," Ginny suggested. "Count to three, than extinguish them. We'll see it from the window and know that you all made it."

The first group was sent on their way out the portrait hole, and Ginny and Neville waited by the window. "All this for a party?" Ginny muttered but grinned when Neville met her eye. It was hard to believe, but they were actually have fun. There was a touch of excitement mixed with the anxiety in the possibility that they just might pull off a miniature exodus right under the headmaster's nose.

A few moments later three bobbing lights of pointed wand tips lit up a portion of the forest edge like fireflies, and Ginny nodded at Neville who sent the next group off with a reminder to light their wands as soon as they reached the forest. Now all that were left were Neville, Ginny, Charlotte, and Seamus. They waited by the window for the signal, practically holding their breath in the hopes that the next group hadn't been stopped.

"There they are," Charlotte pointed through the glass window pane.

"Alight," Neville pulled out his wand. "Let's go." Leading the way, he cautiously pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and listened for footsteps in the corridor. Finding the way clear, he nodded and stepped out, holding the portrait open for the others to pass through.

Ginny gripped her own wand in the pocket of her robes. She had no doubt that if the Carrows happened upon their escape no lie about the hospital wing was going to get them out of punishment. With the reputation she and Neville had built up as the instigators of rebellion at Hogwarts, not even a bout of real vomiting would convince the Carrows that they weren't up to something. "This way," she whispered and took the lead through a secret passage short cut she and Dean use to frequent. The second floor was dark and empty as well, and they hurried down a deserted staircase toward the entrance hall.

Reaching the bottom, Neville threw an arm out and stopped them all from advancing. Listening carefully, they all heard what he had, footsteps in the Great Hall followed by low voices. Ducking out of sight, they crouched in the shadow beside the stair and tried not to breath.

"Where are ya off to now, then?" Amycus demanded gruffly, walking into sight behind the headmaster with Alecto on his heels. All three had their backs to the staircase, moving purposely toward the front castle doors.

"If your Lord wished for you to know his plans, you would know them," Snape drawled and adjusted his traveling cloak before reaching for the door. "Mind you keep to your posts and refrain from indulging the bottle while I'm away."

"Wouldn't dream of it, headmaster," Carrow returned the sneer with gritted teeth, waiting until Snape had slipped out of the castle before turning to his sister with a scowl. "Thinks 'e's greater than the Dark Lord, don't 'e?"

"Ain't any better than us. Got the same mark, don't we?" Alecto agreed and followed her brother back toward the stairs. Charlotte nearly gave away their hiding place with a small yelp of fright which Neville squelched with a quick hand over her mouth, pulling her deeper into the shadows. "Snape thinks 'e's so smart 'cause 'e's 'eadmaster—" Alecto continued her tirade all the way up the stairs and out of sight. Ginny released a sigh of relief when they were gone, easing out from behind the stair and passing Charlotte a frown of annoyance for her minor slip up.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Neville spoke barely above a whisper, "before they come back."

The door creaked slightly on its hinges as they ducked out into the night, but the Carrows did not return, and they rushed away from the castle, down to the forest edge under the cover of darkness. It wasn't hard to find the others once they stepped beneath the sheltering trees and lit their wands. Hagrid had left a series of signs tacked to tree trunks or stuck in the ground pointing the way. After a hike of about ten minutes, they saw a dome of light encircling a clearing and heard voices and laughter not far off.

Picking up the pace, Neville, Ginny, Charlotte, and Seamus entered the clearing where the party was in full swing. Along with the Gryffindors there were a handful of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs each. Hagrid stood behind a slab board table beaming and encouraging everyone to help themselves to refreshments. Between two trees hung a giant canvas cloth with the words "Support Harry Potter" painted in black and green paint. A wireless was set up at the back of the clearing playing music from a well-known wizard rock station. Fang ran up to sniff the newcomers, nearly knocking Seamus over in his excitement.

"Neville!" Hagrid waved and moved around the table to shake his hand. "And Ginny, how are ya?" he patted her head fondly, and Ginny had to hold on to Charlotte so as not to fall over from the weight of the gesture. "So glad you all could make it. It's reasurin' that so many of ya still care."

"Of course we do, Hagrid," Ginny assured him, a little off-put by the sight of moisture beginning to form in the half-giant's beetle black eyes.

"I'm bein' silly, I know," he dug out a dirty handkerchief. "I jus' worry is all."

"We all do," Neville added and patted Hagrid's massive arm somewhere around the elbow. "This is great though, what you're doing. We all needed this."

"Well, come on in!" Hagrid perked up. " 'elp yo'self to a butterbeer, anythin' you like. Grawp is gettin' the bonfires lit, this 'ere clearin' will be toasty befor' ya know it!"

"Drinks?" Neville offered to grab a few. "Charlotte, want a buttterbeer?"

"Please, Neville!" she beamed and watched him and Seamus walk away. "He's so sweet."

Ginny raised an eyebrow at her roommate. "I guess…"

"Didn't you say he was a good dancer?"

"Well, I mean that was a few years ago, but—"

"I might ask him," Charlotte wasn't even listening to her anymore. "I mean, if other people are dancing, I might. Do you think he would? I probably look like a mess. I wonder if Lavender has her hand mirror?" And with that, she was off in search of Lavender, leaving Ginny standing alone until Neville reappeared.

Handing her a bottle of butterbeer, he motioned to his left. "You know Hannah Abbot, right Ginny? She's in my Herbology class."

"Oh," both of Ginny's eyebrows rose this time. "This should be interesting."

"What?" Neville looked confused, glancing at Hannah who also had no idea what her presence at his side meant at that moment.

"Nothing," Ginny wasn't about to confuse them further with an explanation. "Go, enjoy the party you two," she smiled. "Thanks for the butterbeer. I'll take Charlotte's." She reached for the extra bottle Neville carried and added it to hers.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To mingle," Ginny waved a free hand around the clearing. "Hopefully those fires will be lit soon, I'm freezing." She took her leave of Neville and Hannah and went in search of Charlotte. How she was going to tell her that she wouldn't need to bother with Lavender's mirror, she wasn't sure, but she figured she should say something. "Seamus, have you seen Charlotte?" Ginny stopped by a growing pile of burning material which Seamus was attempting to light with his wand. "Are you supposed to be doing that?"

"Why not?" Seamus shrugged as the pile ignited and flames began to spread. "Is that for me? Thanks," he took Charlotte's butterbeer and downed it in three long gulps. "This is fun, eh? We should have done this ages ago. See there, Hagrid's brother just lit one too. I thought he was a tree a moment ago, then he moved."

"Fascinating," Ginny sipped from her own drink and watched the fire grow. It was warm and inviting, and she forgot about finding Charlotte for a moment. "Seamus, how long has Neville been seeing Hannah?"

"Longbottom's got a girlfriend?" Seamus tossed in another severed tree branch and moved on to find more. Ginny didn't stop him with more questions; he was obviously clueless.

When all the fires were lit they formed a circle around the clearing where everyone congregated and grew warm beside the flames. Long roasting sticks were found in the brush to spear sausages, gooey sweats, and just about anything they could find on the refreshment table to roast over the fire. A frigid wind tossed the branches of the surrounding trees, but within the ring of bonfires it was comfortable enough to lounge about on the ground sitting on their discarded cloaks and sweaters.

Ginny found Charlotte with Lavender and Parvati. Taking places near the closest fire, they looked up as Hagrid stood in front of the crowd beneath the "Support Harry Potter" banner. He wished to say a few words and whistled for everyone's attention.

"Jus' want ta say I'm glad ya all are 'ere. I know things are tough up there," he thrust a thumb in the direction of the castle. "But you're not alone. Lotsa teachers care about ya, and jus' wanta see that you're safe. Harry's out there," he was certain. "He's fightin' and doin' what 'e thinks is right for us. We can' forget. We can' forget." Hagrid shook his head adamantly, very close to tears again.

"Hear, hear, Hagrid!" Neville raised his drink and encouraged a round of applause.

Hagrid looked pleased, bouncing a few times on his heels and crossing his arms behind his massive back. "Thank ye, thank ye. Neville, he's a good boy too."

This also received a rounding cheer, and Seamus yelled, "Speech, speech!"

Neville shook his head, but those around him pushed him to his feet and shoved him toward the front before he could protest further. "Alright," he set down his butterbeer and ran a self-conscience hand through his hair before shoving both deep into his pockets. "Uh…well, Hagrid's right. We can't forget that Harry's out there. We think he's developing a plan, a defense, I guess, to stand up to the Dark Lord. So that means we need to be ready too. 'Cause he's going to come back. He is! We don't know when, but I'm sure of it. And when he does, we need to be ready to fight. We can't be afraid," Neville was warming up now, gaining confidence and volume. "Just because they have control now doesn't mean we have to sit back and do nothing. Practice your defensive spells, whatever you need to do to protect yourself when the times comes. Or, now," he thought about it. "Defending yourself against the Carrows is always good practice too."

There were several positive responses to this, and Neville smiled, wondering what to say next. "We want to continue with Dumbledore's Army like when Harry was here. We're thinking about meeting in the Room of Requirement once or twice during the week. Not sure when, but we'll figure that out and let you know. How many of you still have your Protean coins from before?" Several hands went up, and he nodded. "Good. Keep them with you in case Ginny or I need to send you a message."

It appeared he was finished, smiling and looking to Hagrid before moving back to his seat. Hagrid led the applause for the last time while praising Neville's speech with a beaming grin.

"He's so right," Charlotte clapped along with all the rest and leaned over to speak in Ginny's ear with an expression of awe on her star-struck face. "That speech was brilliant, don't you think?"

Ginny worked very hard not to laugh, simply nodding instead before hiding behind her beverage bottle. "Sure was, but you know, Charlotte—"

"I'm going to go tell him just how wonderful it was," Charlotte jumped up as the chatter in the clearing rose and students began to move around the fires again.

"Charlotte!" Ginny called after her, but to no avail; she was already gone. She was going to have to figure things out for herself, Ginny decided. Charlotte had never once told her to stop admiring Harry, even while he was dating Cho. She never said a word when Ginny had given up and engaged in other relationships. Charlotte had always been her cheerleader when things finally fell into place for Ginny and Harry. It wasn't right for her to dash her spirits over Neville now. What did Ginny know anyway? Maybe it would work out.

"Is Charlotte seriously interested in Neville now?" Lavender shared her humor with Parvati who giggled mirthfully.

Ginny passed them both a cool glare. "He's a far sight better than Ron," she shot back at Lavender who went a little pink and cheeks, scowling with an indignant flip of her hair in return.

"I just meant that it's going to come as a shock to Charlotte when she realizes Neville is head over heels for Hannah. I heard they've been sharing Snargaluff plants in Herbology for weeks. They'll be a hot item next. Too bad for you, Ginny."

"How so, Lavender?" Ginny asked in a bored tone, not really caring what the seventh year's opinion was about such things.

"Just that you and Harry will be replaced as the most interesting couple at Hogwarts if Neville and Hannah make it official."

"I'll be so devastated," Ginny mocked her sarcastically. "The wizarding world has been taken over by dark forces, but my god! How will I live without being the most talked about couple at school?"

Lavender's eyes narrowed, but she failed to come up with a snootier response and her edge immediately crumbled. "Whatever, I—"

She was interrupted as a nearby couple of Ravenclaws stormed by in the middle of a lover's quarrel. The three girls watched as Stewart Ackerley attempted to stop his girlfriend from storming off. "Look, I'm sorry alright! Can we just talk about this?" He was unsuccessful in his attempts, and they both disappeared into the trees on the other side of the bonfires, argument in full swing.

"Poor bloke," Ginny muttered. There were benefits to having a long distance relationship at times.

Neville appeared suddenly with a pair of young Hufflepuff fourth years in tow. Charlotte was with them, and she took her place beside Ginny still grinning from ear to ear in Neville's presence.

"Hey, Ginny," he made a request and pointed at the two fourth years. "Show them your Bat-Bogey Hex. They want to see how it's done."

"On who, you?" Ginny chuckled. "Alright, if you wish—" she reached for her wand.

"No," Neville raised his own, ready to block the spell if need be. "I told them if they wanted to see how it's done they would have to be the recipients."

"Too bad Ryne hadn't tagged along after all," Ginny got to her feet. "He would have made a great practice target. Ready?" she asked the first of the two Hufflepuffs. He nodded enthusiastically and braced himself with a giddy grin. Ginny had performed the hex so many times she could administer it with a mere flick of her wand, causing her victim to stumble back in alarm as his face exploded in a grotesque, flapping mess. His friend doubled over with laughter at the sight of him until Ginny hit him with the hex as well. "There you go boys, hope you enjoyed that." They walked away, poking each others faces and exclaiming over the greatness of the hex.

"Brilliantly performed, as usual," Neville watched them go with an appreciative grin.

"Thank you, Longbottom," Ginny accepted his praise, watching him closely and moving in for a private word. "So…Hannah Abbott, huh?"

Neville blushed, avoiding her eye. "We're good friends."

"Uh-huh."

"We are! We've been talking a lot this year, since you know…her mom was murdered."

Ginny did know about that, and she followed Neville's gaze to where Hannah stood laughing with her classmates over the pair of Bat-Bogeyed fourth years. "Need another butterbeer?" she asked, pulling Neville away toward the refreshment table. "Well, if you and Hannah do get together, you'll be sure and let everybody know, right?"

"I guess," Neville gave her a strange look. "Why?"

"Apparently there are many around here who are very interested in your love life, Longbottom."

He laughed. "I thought everyone just talked about you and Harry."

"Times change," she handed him a cold refreshment and took one for herself, preparing to take a swig when a commotion caught both of their attentions. Glancing over her shoulder, Ginny dropped her butterbeer back on the table at the sight of dozens of students fleeing from the edge of a row of bonfires just as the leering faces of Amycus and Alecto Carrow appeared through the shadows. They pushed ahead of them two students, Stewart Ackerley and his sobbing girlfriend, both bound by tight ropes and gagged with stiff cords tied around their mouths. "Run, Neville!" Ginny pushed him away from the table. "Run!"

The clearing erupted into a scene of chaos. Students screamed and darted for the shelter of the trees, hoping to escape before getting caught in the wrath of the Carrows. Some were successful, others were not and went down as whips slashed from the tips of the brother and sister's wands, wrapping up ankles and sending their captures painfully to the ground.

Hagrid was in an outrage, grabbing the closest whip and trying to break it free to give the petrified student time to flee with the rest. Amycus shot a jet of red light at the half-giant, which glanced off his broad shoulder without inflicting any damage. Grawp stormed in to protect his brother and took a swipe at the offender, knocking Carrow back several feet into the trunk of a great tree.

"Get out of here, Hagrid!" Neville yelled. "They'll send you to Azkaban for this! Go, take Grawp and leave! We'll be fine!"

Hagrid hesitated, but nodded resolutely. "Take care of yerselves. Fang! Grawpy, come on, boy!" The ground shook as they crashed through the brush away from the fires and deep into the forest.

"Where's Charlotte?" Ginny glanced around for her roommate in a panic. It had been her idea to come to this party, she couldn't just leave without Charlotte. If the Carrows got a hold of her, they would break her. "Neville, where is she?" Ginny's fears were confirmed as they looked and saw Charlotte cowered against the ground two yards away with Alecto bent over her. Carrow had a tight grip on Charlotte's long braid of hair, yanking it hard toward a nearby bonfire with a sick sneer spreading across her features.

Neville sprang to life and prepared to run to her aid when Ginny grabbed his arm and stopped him. "No, Neville, wait!" It was her who should go and save her friend. "You don't need any more trouble from the Carrows."

"Oh, and Snape's going to excuse you for this if you're caught?" he argued and passed her a fearless grin. "Just be ready to grab her and run, alright?" Without waiting for a reply, Neville took off at a sprint, jumping over the immobile body of someone stuck under the influence of a Body-Bind curse. Pointing his wand at Alecto, he sent a stream of water like a great wave, dousing both her and the fire before she could singe so much as a hair of Charlotte's head.

Alecto screamed and turned in a rage, catching sight of Neville as he ran passed in the opposite direction. "Amycus!" she bellowed for her brother. "Get him!" Both the Carrows left their victims in pursuit of Neville, and Ginny darted in to grab Charlotte.

Her roommate had not escaped the surge of water, dripping and shivering from both wet and fear. "Come on," Ginny encouraged her to her feet while trying to see where Neville had gone. She hated to leave him, but it was what he wanted. He had given them a chance to escape, they had to take it. "Move, Charlotte! They'll be back any minute." Dragging her by the hand, Ginny began running. Lighting her wand, she found the trail back to castle and listened for the sound of the other students fighting their way through the brush going the same direction. It seemed like forever until they reached the edge of the forest, and both her and Charlotte were breathing hard from the race up the hill by the time they reached the school. No one bothered to keep quiet on their way back to their dormitories. It didn't matter anymore. What mattered was getting away from the Carrows.

Ginny swallowed the guilty lump in her throat and pushed Charlotte into a chair near the fire in the common room so she could dry. _Please Neville, be okay,_ she paced in front of the hearth, looking up every time someone new returned through the portrait hole. "Everybody back?" she demanded the panting and pale faced Gryffindors holding stitches in their sides.

"Everyone but Neville," Seamus responded, looking just as worried as Ginny. "They grabbed a few Ravenclaws I think."

"And those two Hufflepuffs you hexed," Lavender told her. "I passed them running, they were all tied up to a tree."

Ginny slumped onto the sofa and covered her face with her hand. They were lucky, but she felt bad for the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. And Neville…what would they do to Neville?

Nobody left for bed but sat waiting for him to return. Not even Charlotte who shivered in her wet robes, her damp braid lying limp and dripping from her shoulder. It was after midnight before the portrait door swung open and everyone looked up to see Neville step through, limping and holding onto the wall for support. Professor McGonagall stepped in behind him, and the mood in the room turned shameful from the expression on her face.

"I am appalled and disappointed," she began as several peopled moved out of the way so Neville could sink heavily into a vacated seat with a sharp wince at the pain. "Whatever possessed Hagrid to even think of putting you all in such danger, I don't know. But to have accepted the ridiculous invitation when you knew what the consequences would be…the Forbidden Forest!" she was at a loss for words. "Well, be rest assured that every one of you will be facing a series of detentions for your lack of judgment this evening! Now get to bed!" Turning back to Neville, she softened her tone a bit. "You're sure you wouldn't like to visit the hospital wing?"

"I'm sure," Neville muttered, leaning back gingerly in his chair with his eyes closed.

McGonagall frowned but said no more, tightening the belt of her robe and leaving with one last stern look at them all.

As soon as the portrait door closed, Ginny and Charlotte moved in to inspect Neville's wounds. "Are you alright?"

"You look awful," Ginny told him honestly.

"Really?" he tried to smile. " 'Cause I _feel_ amazing." His face was swollen with bruises and his lower lip was bleeding from a grotesque gash. The way he guarded his ribs suggested they were cracked in many places, and Ginny guessed from the blood soaking through his left trouser leg that he suffered an injured knee as well.

"They certainly didn't spare any of their wrath, did they?" she passed him a sympathetic frown.

"It could've been worse," he said. "I could be sleeping in the dungeons tonight. McGonagall interfered though, managed to convince the Carrows otherwise. She was right," he met Ginny's eye seriously. "We were mental to pull this. Now Hagrid's on the run too."

"He'll be alright," she assured him. "No one's taking him to Azkaban with Grawp around."

"Yeah, but it still wasn't smart. McGonagall saved me, but I don't know what they have planned for the others who got caught. We all deserve more than detention for this."

Ginny agreed, but kept her opinion to herself.

"What can I do, Neville?" Charlotte asked. "I could call a house elf to bring you ice."

Neville smiled before wincing and touching the cut on his lip, pulling away with blood on his fingers. Wiping it lazily on his trousers, he closed his eyes against the pain again. "That would be great, Charlotte, thank you."

"Well, you did save my life," she responded with an overabundance of gratitude. Ginny held back a derisive laugh, catching Seamus's eye where he stood behind Neville's chair. He raised his eyebrows with a baffled shake of his head in response before patting his roommate on the shoulder.

"Let's go, mate. I'll help you get cleaned up while you wait for your ice."

Once their hero was taken care of, Ginny and Charlotte climbed the stairs to their room and prepared for bed. Ginny was thankful that there wasn't class to attend in the morning; she was exhausted and wanted nothing more but to sleep the entire Sunday away.

"I feel awful," Charlotte said as she climbed into bed and tucked her comforter under her chin. Ginny caught the glint of her eyes under the moonlight filtering in from the nearby window and noticed that she was crying. "He was amazing, wasn't he? He knew they would torture him if they caught him, but he did it anyway."

"That's Neville for you," Ginny agreed, sliding beneath her own sheets and rolling on her side so she could see the picture of her and Harry she had brought from home. It was taken at the Burrow on his last birthday, right before all the guests had arrived for the party. It was a quick snapshot her father had taken of them at the table, but it was the only one of just the two of them she had. She remembered how awkward it had been to take it after Ron's reaction to her birthday present for Harry that day, but Ginny was glad her dad had insisted on taking it.

"I thought she was going to pull out my hair," Charlotte said, and Ginny had to pull her gaze away from the photo to focus on what she was saying. "She tried to burn it right off my head, I've never been so scared."

"She's a rotten woman," Ginny agreed.

"I wish there was something more I could do for Neville, to say how thankful I am."

"I think he knows."

The room fell quiet, and Ginny's eyes began to droop as she slipped into sleep.

"Tomorrow I'll ask him to go for a walk," Charlotte spoke again causing Ginny to startle back awake. "Do you think he'll go? That is if his leg's healed enough. We could just walk to the owlery or something…"

"Hmmm?" Ginny didn't know what they were talking about anymore.

"I'll ask him," Charlotte decided.

"Ask him what?" Ginny mumbled.

"To go with me," she answered before rolling over and promptly falling asleep. Ginny allowed herself to slip back into unconsciousness as well, but not without feeling like she had failed to tell her roommate something very important.


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: This chapter is a little long but, like I've said before, I'm trying to speed things up to get to the battle with Harry. This section also dips into the original writing by Rowling so it comes with a disclaimer that such borrowed pieces of writing belong solely to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership of them. Enjoy!  
**

**Muriel's Manor  
**

Ginny left class on a chilly March afternoon thankful it was Friday. It was not only the weekend, but Easter holiday which meant a much needed break from lessons. She had every intention to leave her homework until the last minute and spend most of the break sitting in front of the common room fire doing nothing. Therefore, she was surprised to be met in the corridor outside of Gryffindor Tower by Professor McGonagall.

"I have been sent instructions from your parents, Ms. Weasley," she informed her. "You must pack your things and return to my office as soon as you are able. They wish for you to come home for Easter holiday that you may be of some comfort to your ailing Aunt Muriel."

"Auntie Muriel?" Ginny was immediately confused. Why would her parents wish to comfort Auntie Muriel, ailing or otherwise?

"That is the message. Please find me in my office within the quarter hour." McGonagall passed her a stern expression which encouraged a prompt response to the request.

Ginny nodded and stepped through the portrait hole, wondering what really could be the reason for her parents wanting her home. She quickly sprinted up to her dormitory and scrambled for all her things, tossing them into her trunk without much consideration. Charlotte was not back from class, so Ginny scribbled a quick note, letting her roommate know where she was going. Glancing quickly around the room to be sure she hadn't forgotten anything, she grabbed the framed photo of her and Harry off the nightstand and pulled her trunk out of the room.

McGonagall was sitting behind her desk when Ginny entered the office. She looked up over her spectacles and took in Ginny's harried appearance. "Well, you are quick." Standing and moving around to the fireplace hearth, McGonagall picked up a container of Floo powder and tossed a pinch onto the low flames. "We thought that this would be the fastest way. The headmaster is aware of your leaving and authorized the transport. He is expecting your punctual return before term resumes."

Ginny took this to mean that Snape was not fooled by the Auntie Muriel excuse either. She nodded and pushed her trunk inside the fireplace before moving into place beside it.

"We will see you soon, Ms. Weasley," Professor McGonagall stood by and watched as Ginny spoke her destination of the Burrow out loud and began spinning out of sight. It was the most trips home during a school year she had ever experienced, and though she was happy to be getting away from the castle, she wondered if it would be the last. Missing lessons was not a disappointment, but Dumbledore's Army was just beginning to start up serious operations again. Neville had been formulating big plans in which Ginny was an integral part. And she hadn't even told him she was leaving. _Charlotte will tell him,_ she thought as the spinning slowed, and she stopped in the grate inside the Burrow.

Dropping her trunk with a heavy thud on the floor, she looked around. The house was quiet, rain pattered on the windows and pipes creaked in the kitchen. "Mum?"

"Up here!" Molly's distant voice filtered down through the winding, uneven stairs from somewhere in the upper levels. Ginny began to follow it, but not without noticing distinct signs of hurried packing in both the sitting room and the kitchen. There were open crates half full with household items, suitcases spilling out clean laundry, and boxes stacked waiting to be filled. Perhaps they were going to visit Auntie Muriel after all.

Ginny climbed the stairs until she found her mother in her parent's bedroom. A large box was at her feet, and Molly was busy bewitching her wardrobe to spew out clothes into a neatly folded pile at the bottom of the box. "Oh, Ginny dear, you made it!"

"What's going on, Mum? Professor McGonagall said you wanted me home so we could comfort Auntie Muriel?"

"Yes, well," Molly smiled sheepishly. "We needed some excuse, didn't we? It wasn't likely Professor Snape would freely release you if we told him the truth."

"What is the truth?" Ginny asked while watching Molly pack her simple jewelry box and several pocket handkerchiefs. "Why are you packing?"

"We must," Molly stopped and turned to her daughter, showing the clear etches of worry which had been drawing on her face. "Things are very unsettled, Ginevra. Death Eaters have been raiding several houses with little to no warning. Your father is under threat of being arrested at the Ministry every time he shows up for work. If he doesn't go, they will consider him a dissenter and come for him here. Xeno Lovegood was taken prisoner just yesterday after making an attempt to find and free his daughter."

Ginny opened her mouth in shock, but didn't know what to say.

"He was a fool to even try," Molly muttered and returned to her work. "Your father tried to convince him to stay here, but he wouldn't listen. He has been living in the torn apart house for the last month, freezing under mounds of snow and deteriorating with grief. It was sad to see." She folded a jumper listlessly, lost in deep thought. "I don't blame him really, for wanting to find her."

"Mum," Ginny brought her back to the present. "But why are you packing? Where are we going?"

Molly looked up. "Nowhere yet. You're father plans to remain at work until he feels it's decidedly unsafe. We will stay here in the meantime, but I want to be prepared. Most of this stuff we won't need, but I want it packed safely away out of sight. No Death Eater is going to storm through my home and wreak havoc with my collection of Lockhart commemorative plates."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Heaven forbid."

"Not a word from you," Molly pointed a stern finger. "Did you bring your trunk home? Take it to your room, but don't unpack it. Keep it organized and ready in case we should have to leave in a hurry."

"Am I home for good then?" Ginny just realized what all the precaution could mean.

"I'm afraid so, dear," her mother told her. "Right now keeping together and staying safe is more important than continued education. I am certain you will be able to catch up."

Ginny wasn't concerned about that. What bothered her was that she was now stuck at home with no one to talk to but her mother and Lockart's obnoxious winking, gold lined plates. Hogwarts was miserable, but at least it had Neville and Charlotte, and even Seamus who was tolerable in certain conditions. At school Ginny felt like she was actually a part of the resistance. What was she going to contribute locked up at home where she wasn't even allowed to use her wand?

With mixed feelings, she retreated back to the sitting room to retrieve her trunk and lugged it up to her room. Opening the door, she felt comforted by the familiarity of the space. It was warm despite the chill rain outside, and she instantly felt at home. Pushing her trunk to the empty space at the end of the bed, she pulled out her photo and set it on the edge of her writing desk where she would see it best while lying in bed. One consolation of being at home was that she wouldn't have to worry as much about her family. On top of that, any news of Harry would reach her that much sooner living under the roof of two members of the Order of the Phoenix. It wasn't much, but it was something.

* * *

Arthur returned from an anxious day of work very late in the evening. With him came more disparaging news. Ted Tonks had been killed. "Remus and Nymphadora are with Andromeda now," he assured Molly. "It is quite a blow for us all, but hardly a surprise. Bellatrix has had it out for her brother-in-law for years. I am sure we will hear of it on _Potterwatch_ this evening."

The family ate a rushed dinner and moved to the sitting room to ensure they would not miss the broadcast. Ginny sat curled up with Crookshanks in her favorite armchair beneath the front window and stared out into the dreary, soggy night with her reflection staring back at her through the glass. Poor Tonks. First her father needing to go on the run, and now to find out he was overtaken and murdered. And all while she was expecting a child too.

"_Albus_," Arthur tapped the wireless on the side table with his wand and spoke the password out loud. The box wined a high pitched frequency before finding clear airwaves, and the room was filled with the sound of Lee Jordan's voice as he began announcing the program. Ginny and her fellow Gryffindors had listened in many times over the last few months, but it had been weeks since they had last heard from the _Potterwatch_ broadcasters.

"Welcome back listeners! Thanks for tuning in, we apologize for our temporary absence from the airways…" Lee immediately confirmed what Ginny's mother had told her about the Death Eater drop ins at several wizard and Muggle homes across the country. He was then joined by Lupin and Kingsley under their code names, Romulus and Royal.

"I thought you said Lupin was at Andromeda's?" Ginny asked her father.

"Shh," Arthur waved her quiet so he wouldn't miss a single announcement.

"A goblin by the name of Gornuk was also killed," Lee sidetracked to the sad news of Ted Tonks' passing, including the names of those who had been on the run with him. "It is believed that Muggle-born Dean Thomas and a second goblin, both believed to have been traveling with Tonks, Cresswell, and Gornuk, may have escaped…"

Ginny's heart skipped a beat. Dean had been with Mr. Tonks? She had heard no word of his whereabouts since the day he escaped on the platform in Hogsmeade. Both Molly and Arthur passed expressions of sympathy for their daughter. "He escaped, Gin," Arthur gave a word of encouragement. "He'll be alright; he's made it this long."

Molly reached for Ginny's hand and gave it a warm squeeze as the program moved on with more announcements of death and destruction caused by the Death Eaters. A moment of silence was given for the departed before Kingsley came on with some encouraging stories of wizard bravery in the face of hardship. "…we continue to hear truly inspirational stories of wizards and witches risking their own safety to protect Muggle friends and neighbors…"

Lupin was up next and spoke some truly heartfelt words about Harry and the confidence Lupin had that he was still alive. " 'The Boy Who Lived' remains a symbol of everything for which we are fighting; the triumph of good, the power of innocence, the need to keep resisting…"

Ginny curled up tighter in her chair, squeezing Crookshanks so tight that he complained with an irritated growl and escaped for the windowsill. There was a burning sensation in her pocket and she reached for the enchanted coin she had forgotten that she carried. There was a new message from Neville, a simple one word question asking if she was okay. They were listening to the program in Gryffindor Tower, and he must have known she would be listening too. Ginny couldn't help but smile, though she wondered how Seamus had felt hearing that his best friend had so narrowly missed death. She could not respond to the message. Her wand was packed away in her trunk, and her mother would not allow her to use even if Ginny had it on hand. It didn't matter. It was likely Neville knew this and didn't expect a response. He had simply sent the message to make her feel better. And it had worked.

Ginny was pulled from her private thoughts by the sound of her brother, Fred's voice coming over the air. He was sharing with the audience that they had just heard that Hagrid had been chased away from Hogwarts for his "Support Harry Potter" party.

"Just heard?" she glanced at her father in confusion. "That happened a month ago, you all didn't know?"

"A month?" Arthur looked just as confused. "When Remus spoke to him he made is sound like it had just happened."

"That's Hagrid for you," Ginny snorted. "He's probably been wandering around in the Forbidden Forest this whole time befriending vampires or something."

"Don't be cheeky," Molly reprimanded mildly. "And don't tell me you were involved with this illegal party, were you?"

"Well, if you don't want me to tell you…" Ginny ducked her head to avoid the look her mother gave her.

"Ginevra…"

"Quiet, Mum, we're missing Fred's announcements."

"Point is, people," Fred advised in connection to Voldemort's whereabouts, "don't get lulled into a false sense of security thinking he's out of the country. Maybe he is, maybe he isn't, but the fact remains he can move faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to…"

Ginny broke out into giggles, unable to help herself with that image placed in her mind. Molly frowned, unsure of the stability of her daughter at that moment. They missed the closing goodbyes, and Arthur had to lean in close to catch the password for the next program over the sound of Ginny's laughter. With all of the gloom and doom, it felt comforting to be in her warm home with her parents and to have something to laugh over for once. Once she got started, she found it hard to stop, and soon Molly had joined in, unable to help herself. Arthur just shook his head and switched off the wireless.

"I just don't know," he broke the spell, quieting both Ginny and Molly with his expression of concern. "I'm glad they do it, but it makes me fear for their safety. Too often they have been using Fred and George's basement to send out the broadcasts from. It's a risk, an awful risk."

"Is that were they are tonight?" Ginny asked.

Arthur shook his head. "I don't know. They never tell me until well after the broadcast. They don't tell anyone but themselves."

"And that is why they have not been found," Molly pointed out. "Better they continue to give hope to those in fear, as I believe you've told me more than once."

"Right you are, as always, Molly dear." Arthur attempted to smile. "Well," he slapped the arms of his chair with finality. "Off to bed then, everyone. It's late, and we need our rest."

* * *

"Ginny! Ginny, wake up!"

Opening her eyes with a start, Ginny found herself face to face with her mother who was in a panic, shaking the bed with one hand while holding tightly to her wand with the other. "What is it?"

"Get up now! Get your things but don't bother getting dressed. Here," Molly threw her an overcoat before rushing for the open door to the hall again. It was dark in the room with only a low lantern lighting the stair. "Put that on and bring your trunk downstairs at once. And if you see the cat, bring him along! Hurry!"

Ginny was already up and slipping on her trainers, thrusting her arms into the overcoat and throwing open her trunk to grab her wand before slamming it shut and locking it tight. "Come Crookshanks," she called once out in the hall, waiting for the cat to run down from the level above where he had been busy hunting mice on the upper landing. Picking him up, Ginny drug her trunk behind her and burst into the kitchen to find Fred, George, and Bill there with traveling cloaks and armloads of possessions.

"What's happened?" she asked, feeling sick, fearful, and disoriented.

"No time to explain now," Bill told her. "Let's get to Auntie Muriel's first."

"Don't tell me she dying," Ginny grumbled on her way through the clutter of crates and suitcases to the door.

"No," George reached for her trunk to relieve her of the burden. "But if we hang around here much longer, that may be our fate."

"Don't joke of such things!" Molly flew in from the sitting room with her hair in all directions. She wore a pair of over sized Wellingtons, a flowered housecoat, and a thick cloak over her nightgown. "Leave all of this, boys," she waved at a pile of boxes by the kitchen table. "Just the suitcase here and those crates. The rest…" she appeared torn, flustered, and as distraught as Ginny felt. "The rest will have to stay. Let's go!"

They pushed through the door and into the yard as Arthur suddenly apparated beyond the protective boundaries of the Burrow. "She's ready for us, Molly." He grabbed several large crates and the lantern, closing the door behind them and locking it with his wand. "Move along! Bill, you've got Ginny?"

"I've got her," Bill moved to her side and gave her his arm for side-along apparition. "Ready?"

Ginny ensured she had a good hold on Crookshanks and nodded, preparing herself for the uncomfortable feeling of moving rapidly through space. The Burrow disappeared in an instant, and a suffocating moment later, they arrived before the grand old, family home where Auntie Muriel reigned. Or at least where it should have been. All Ginny could see were towering evergreens before a stretch of moonlit lawn until her father spoke the location and gave them all access as Secret Keeper of the hidden safe house.

Instantly the three story, brick manor appeared, well lit and dripping with sad looking ivy crawling up the outer walls and clogging the chimney. Ginny exchanged a resigned look with her twin brothers and tried not to sigh too heavily. They had spent many family gatherings at this manor. None had been anything to get excited about.

"At least it's large," Fred pointed out as they struggled up the front path with their things. "We can find a quiet corner and avoid Muriel for days."

"I vote for the back row of bedrooms on the third floor," George glanced up at the broad face of the home.

"The ones with all the windows?" Fred asked.

"Precisely. With all the owls coming in from our Owl-Order service, we'll be needing lots of windows."

"Owl-Order service?" Ginny scoffed. "Oh, Auntie Muriel will just love the thought of you two running your business out of her bedrooms!"

"It's an honor and a privilege," Fred was sure.

"We'll cut her in on a portion of the profits if she fusses," George obliged.

"A very small portion," Fred wasn't going to be hasty.

Ginny shook her head in amusement, and took her trunk from Bill once they managed to stumble into the foyer off the front hall. There was a great deal of commotion on where they should put their belongings. Short hellos were offered to Auntie Muriel who waved them off and barked orders, completely put out by relatives raiding her space in the middle of the night, but "Glad to do it, what else could be done? I won't have anyone say I'm not generous," she repeated more than once while standing stationary on the bottom most stair in the hall, clutching her walking stick and the bannister for support. "Close that door, Bill, you'll let in a draft. I don't care to die of pneumonia tonight, thank you." She tightened the ruffled collar of her ancient housecoat and scowled.

"Tell me now," Ginny turned to Bill as he shut the door and demanded an answer. "Why are we here, what happened?"

He glanced at his father, stalling a bit for time to get the words just right. "It's Harry," he began, watching his sister's reaction carefully. "He showed up at Shell Cottage tonight."

Ginny was struck by this, waiting without speaking for more.

"Ron and Hermione too. They had run into Snatchers in the woods and were taken to Malfoy

Manor to await the Dark Lord. They escaped, but not before Hermione was tortured."

Molly gasped, and covered her mouth with her hand.

"She's okay, Mum," Bill assured her. "Fleur is taking care of her."

"What about Harry?" Ginny persisted.

"He's fine, Ron's fine. Dean Thomas was snatched with them. He got out too with Lovegood's daughter, the wand maker, Ollivander, and a goblin who had all been imprisoned in Malfoy's dungeon."

Ginny's eyes grew wide at the news. Luna and Dean were safe. Ron and Hermione were alright. Harry was at Bill's cottage... "Why did you bring us here?" she demanded. "Can't we see them?"

Bill frowned and shook his head. "There is not enough room at the cottage as it is. And," he met her eye, "I don't think Harry intends on staying long."

Ginny opened her mouth to pose another question, but Bill cut her off. "I need to get back. If there is nothing else you need?" he looked to Arthur once again who shook his head.

"We'll manage here just fine. Thank you, Bill," he reached and shook his grown son's hand firmly. "You may have saved our lives."

"Thank Harry," Bill told him. "And Ron, it was him who told the house elf to take them to the cottage. If he hadn't, we would have never known they had been captured."

"House elf?" Ginny looked from Bill to her father with even more confusion.

"Yes," Bill nodded. "Dobby, the free elf. He was the one who helped them escape." At this he looked more downhearted than glad. "And for his courage he lost his life from a wound inflicted by a blade owned by Bellatrix Lestrange."

Molly reacted with another sharp intake of breath. "Oh, that poor boy."

Ginny thought her mother had misspoken until she realized that Molly wasn't concerned for the elf, but for Harry.

"Harry is digging a grave for him now," Bill tightened his traveling cloak and reached for the door once again. "I must go. As soon as I can, I will send you word of their plans. Goodnight."

Ginny helplessly watched him leave, wanting desperately to run after and go with him.

"Come on, Gin," George nudged her. "Find yourself a room before all the good ones are taken and all that's left is the foul smelling, mothball mausoleums. Need help with that trunk again?"

"No," Ginny pulled her gaze away from the door with a heavy heart. Dragging her things up the miles of winding staircases, she picked a room at the front of the house on the third floor far away from everyone else. Pulling her coin from the pocket of the overcoat she had yet to remove, she tapped it with her wand and sent Neville a message. "HP, RW, HG, LL, DT. FREE."

Sitting down on the dusty, unused bed, she called for Crookshanks and waited for him to appear through the open door. He trotted to her side and brushed affectionately against her leg. "Did you hear that, Crookshanks? Hermione is okay." Ginny reached down and picked the cat up, scratching him behind the ears. She could not imagine what state Hermione was in after being tortured, but she was recovering. "I only wonder how she made it out alive. They would have known she was born a Muggle."

Crookshanks' head shot up at the sound of mice scratching near the baseboards beneath an ancient dresser along the far wall. "Go get them," Ginny released him to take on a new hunt. "Auntie Muriel should be thrilled you're here, at least."

* * *

The next few days were the longest of Ginny's life. As large as Auntie Muriel's home was, it was not large enough to distance herself from the complaints of the lady of the house, or the ruckus of Owl-Orders which spurred continuous heated arguments between the twins and Mrs. Weasley. She spent most of the time in the third floor spare room alone, pretending to keep up on her studies so her mother wouldn't confiscate her wand. She created a cozy little corner in the window seat where she could curl up with a book and watch the front gate. She was eager for news from Shell Cottage. She hoped that Bill would come often to fill them in on what was happening by the sea, but he didn't. Molly considered no new, good news. At least they knew where they were and that they were safe, but Ginny wasn't satisfied.

On a particularly dreary day full of cross arguments and short tempers, Bill did arrive with a new house guest. Ollivander had improved enough to be moved from the cottage to give Fleur's own guests more room. The elderly wand maker still looked feeble, but carried a broad smile and a gentle tone of gratitude. They set him up in the parlor, on a comfortable couch with a quilt across his knees and a tray of freshly prepared tea. Ginny stood near the door and waited for Bill to shake Ollivander's hand and bid him goodbye.

"How are they?" she asked as he passed to leave once again. "What are their plans?"

Bill laughed and shook his head. "You know I couldn't tell you even if I knew."

"You must know something," she wasn't letting him go that easily.

"Very little," he gave her that. "Believe me, I wish I knew more, but Harry likes to keep his secrets. You know that."

"But what have they been doing these past few days?"

"Planning, tucked away by themselves or with Griphook."

"The goblin?" Ginny wondered what Griphook would have to do with their plan now.

"Yes," Bill nodded but didn't look that thrilled about it. "Which worries me a great deal, I'll be honest." Leaning forward, he pecked Ginny on the forehead. "Fleur's waiting. Stop driving Mum nutters, I'll be back soon."

"Me?" Ginny scoffed with a scowl. "Tell that to Fred and George."

"I'll leave that to you," he shot back over his shoulder on his way out. Stopping halfway through the door, he poked his head back in the foyer. "Do you have any messages you would like for me to pass along?"

Ginny took a moment to answer, thinking carefully. "Give them my love," she said finally. "All of them."

Things were busier in the house with Ollivander to care for. Ginny stopped spending so much time alone on the third floor and began frequenting the parlor to keep the old gentleman company. He, unlike everyone else, was free with his knowledge of what was going on at the cottage, what had happened to him since the Death Eaters had broken down his shop door, and had many interesting stories to share. He was a fan of wizard's chess, and though Ginny wasn't particularly good at it, Ollivander was a superb teacher, and it gave them something to do.

They were in the middle of a game when there was a knock at the door. Ginny heard her father answer it, and she looked up to see Lupin enter the hall through the open parlor door. He was flushed and in a hurry, but could not keep the grin off his face. "Dora had the baby! It's a boy! A healthy baby boy!"

Mrs. Weasley let out an exclamation of excitement and Fred and George cheered from the second floor landing. Arthur congratulated the new father, pumping his hand and slapping him on the shoulder. "Excellent, Reamus, just fine! What did you name him?"

"Teddy," Lupid accepted the congratulations with beaming pride. "After Dora's father."

"Splendid," Molly gushed. "Please tell Nymphadora how thrilled we are!"

"I will," Lupin promised.

"Did you hear that, Ollivander, sir?" Arthur popped his head into the room.

"I did indeed," the wand maker nodded with a smile. "A fine day for a son, Reamus. A silver lining!"

"Thank you," Lupin was breathless. "I wish I could stay, but I must get back to Dora, and I need to stop at Shell Cottage first."

"Of course!" Molly encouraged him to hurry. "Spread the news, they all will be so thrilled. Especially Harry, I'm sure!"

Lupid nodded with a serene glance at the floor. "We wish to make him godfather, if he accepts."

This was too much for Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny noticed her mother's eyes well up just a bit. Molly opened her mouth to speak, but was too emotional and merely nodded enthusiastically instead. Lupin glanced over his shoulder and met Ginny's eye. "Do you think he will?" he asked.

Ginny smiled. Lupin didn't need to ask, but she was pleased that he had. "Of course," she assured him. "He'll be honored."

Lupin nodded, took a deep breath, and said his goodbyes before leaving as quickly as he had arrived. Ginny returned to the chessboard as the noised quieted down in the hall. It was her turn, but she wasn't sure what move would be best.

"Protect your king young lady," Ollivander advised.

"I'll do my best," Ginny responded in deep thought.

"Fabulous news, that," the wand maker returned to the subject of babies. "Deep in the middle of a war, and yet still new life blooms."

Ginny looked up and watched line deep lines of the old man's face seem to soften and draw some measure of youthfulness from the thought.

"Not all is lost," he said softly, more to himself than to her with his gaze drifting out a nearby window into the back garden. "Not yet."


	20. Chapter 20

**Dragon Flight**

Ginny sat curled up in the window seat of the third floor spare room staring idly out the window. Her fingers absentmindedly played with her Protean Galleon as if expecting a message. Since she sat there for so long watching the deserted front walk before the gloomy manor, Ginny was the first to see Bill arrive.

Sitting up in alarm, she nearly dropped her coin. Ginny watched Bill quickly advance up the walk before losing sight of him as he reached the door three floors below. Rushing out of the room, she quickly crossed the hall and banged on the twin's door. There was not an immediate response as her knock was lost among all the racket they were already creating within. Ginny resorted to using her fist, hitting the aging wood with a loud thud before taking the liberty of entering without leave. "Fred! George!"

"Trespasser, who let you in?" Fred responded from where he stood over a large steaming cauldron whose contents happened to be burping rather loudly.

"Where's George?" Ginny glanced around.

"In the wardrobe," Fred replied.

"Well, get him out. Bill's here."

"Bill's here?" George's head popped from behind a wardrobe door wearing a pair of goggles with color changing lenses.

"Have any Extendable Ears?" Ginny asked.

"Certainly. Fred, have you seen—" George lifted the glasses and scanned the jumble of merchandise boxes spilling their contents all over the room.

"I'm sure I've seen—" Fred did a quick search, dripping belching fluid from the tip of a large glass thermometer he had pulled from the cauldron.

"You two are hopeless," Ginny gave up and decided to go without. Turning with a disgusted flip of her hair, she hurried down two flights of stairs. Slowing on the landing before descending into the first floor foyer, she checked the hall and listened for voices. Extendable Ears were not necessary after all. Bill was in the parlor with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ollivander, and Auntie Muriel. In their haste to hear his news, they had neglected to properly close the door.

Ginny eased halfway down the stairs and sat where she could listen without being seen. Through the banisters she could see into the room where Bill stood beside the mantle. "They left this morning," he was saying. "Early, before any of us were up."

Molly asked a question, but it was missed in the sound of Fred and George running down the stairs. Ginny passed them both a dirty look as they slipped by with swift pats on her head.

"Too bad your underage yet, eh, Gin?"

"Official Order business, must be going."

"Shut up," she hissed. "Don't tell Mum I'm here." She watched them disappear into the parlor to greet Bill. Thankfully they were kind enough not to close the door all the way behind them.

"What's going on?" George asked.

"They've broken into Gringotts," Bill announced for the twins what he had already told the others.

"Brilliant," Fred snorted. "Being on the run has changed our boy a bit, hasn't it? If he was so desperate for gold why'd he risk a go at it himself though? Couldn't you have managed it, Bill?"

"Harry didn't break into his own vault," Bill told him. "He broke into the Lestrange's."

The twins couldn't believe this, and it stunned Ginny as well. Stunned and excited her. First the story of the Three Brothers and now the break in. Could Harry have discovered that the Lestranges had one of the Hallows in their vault while he was imprisoned at the Malfoy's? Did he now have more than one or maybe all of them?

"What did he take?" George asked, and Bill shifted his stance by the fire with a frown.

"Their presence caused a great deal of damage to the vault," he responded. "The dragon destroyed a large portion—"

"Dragon?" Molly stopped him in horror. "What dragon?"

"A vault security dragon," Bill explained as if it were obvious. "It's how they escaped the goblins."

"By riding out on a dragon?" George sounded thrilled.

Molly emitted a rather strangled sound of dismay, Auntie Muriel sputtered in shock, and Arthur hushed them both impatiently. "They are out of the city then?"

"Yes," Bill nodded. "We believe they headed north, but we don't know where or if they've landed."

Ginny's heart hammered in her chest. Was there any safe way to land and dismount a dragon?

"Leave it to those three to escape with such style," Fred admired their flare.

"I've notified Charlie, Dad," Bill continued. "He's bringing a team to try track down the dragon. Perhaps we'll find a clue as to where the three are once we find the beast. We also need to track down the goblin, Griphook."

"Why?" Arthur sounded surprised. "I thought he was with you?"

"They took him along to help gain access to the vault. He fled in the chaos. At least that's what Kingsley was able to deduce from his sources in Diagon Alley," he explained.

"You never said what Harry was after though," Fred reminded him. "Any ideas?"

"Not yet," Bill was preparing to leave again. "The goblins should know once the vault is restored to order and they can take inventory of what's still there. Ready Dad? Mum?"

"Where are you all off to?" George asked indignantly. "Not to hunt down dragons and goblins without us?"

"Kingsley's called a meeting at Lupin's. Tonks needs to be with the baby, so we need to meet over there."

"And we need you to keep an eye out here," Molly stopped her boys from arguing. "Stay with Ginny. We'll fill you in when we get back."

Voices drew nearer to the parlor door, and Ginny stood and slipped upstairs before she was seen. Slamming the door of her room, she paced the rug and fumed. She was not a child in need of babysitting. She was in love with the Chosen One, one of the most powerful wizards of their time. She shouldn't have to sneak around staircases and listen at doors to hear news of him. She should be one of the first to know. She shouldn't have to be trapped inside a drafty old safe house. She should be out their flying dragons beside him.

Pulling out her wand, Ginny sent a message to Neville on the coin. She told him about Gringotts and the dragons as best she could in her lingering fury. Fred and George's voices filtered through the closed door as they returned to their room. Discussing getting word to Lee for an announcement of the break-in on _Potterwatch,_ they also sounded miffed at being left behind. Their indignance did little to ease Ginny's anger. At least they were included in the discussion. At least they were fully educated wizards free to use magic. What was she?

* * *

Deep within a dream, Ginny could almost taste the bitter cold air of the mountains. She was soaring high above the Black Lake with the lights of Hogwarts glittering in the distant night. Beneath her, holding Ginny up, was a great winged creature with black scales and red horns running down its long neck. Ginny held tight to one of these for dear life, leaning over and looking down at the reflection of the dragon's shadow on the surface of the water. She saw her own reflection and realized she was not alone.

Ginny straightened and glanced over her shoulder as Harry slipped his arms around her waist and held her tightly to his chest. Her breath caught in her throat, and Ginny was unable to speak. Harry's own breath was on her neck, and his lips grazed her ear as he leaned in. "We need to jump," he told her.

The suggestion alarmed her, but Ginny looked down as Harry removed her hand from its hold on the dragon's horn and held it securely in his. "Just trust me," he said and pulled her with him over the edge of the dragon's ridged back, falling down, down toward the still glass surface of the lake…

Waking with a start, Ginny caught herself against the mattress of the bed as if she had actually been falling. It took her a moment to realize where she was. The spare room was dark and she thought she could still feel the warmth of Harry's hand holding hers until she glanced down and realized she was holding the Protean coin. It was radiating a low heat, warning her of a new message from Neville.

Ginny sat up on the edge of the bed and lit her wand so she could read it. After squinting against the sudden beam emanating from the wand tip, her eyes widened in alarm at the message on the coin. Bolting from the room, she ran down the hall for her brothers just as before. She found their room empty with the door standing open. Calling their names, she turned and sprinted down the endless stairs before finding them in the basement kitchen sitting at the table eating a late dinner.

"Ginevra Weasley!" Auntie Muriel exclaimed disapprovingly from her place beside the stove.

"We've were waiting dinner, sis," George speared a potato with his fork. "But figured you went to bed."

"Mum and Dad still gone?" she demanded, ignoring Muriel's scowl.

"Yes," George responded. "Why?"

"Harry's back," she spilled the news in an excited rush, holding up the coin for them to see. "He's at Hogwarts. They're going to fight."

Fred and George stared at her without blinking. Muriel stood in her ruffled night dress with her mouth hanging open in disbelief while clutching the handle of her tea kettle.

"He's there," Ginny insisted. "Neville notified me." Tossing the coin to Fred, she forced her brothers to read it for themselves. "Ron too, and Hermione. Neville and the others are notifying everybody. Mum and Dad might already be there."

At that, the twins sprung back to life with chairs scraping against the floor as they pushed back from the table and dropped their eating utensils. All three disregarded their aunt's demands to stay put as they rushed upstairs into the foyer.

"I don't suppose it would do any good to tell you to stay behind?" Fred handed Ginny back her fake Galleon as he grabbed the handle on the front door with a look of determination mixed with excitement on his face.

"No," Ginny met the look with one of her own, and Fred glanced quickly at George for confirmation before nodding.

"Got your wand then?"

"Yes."

"Any idea of where we're supposed to go?" George asked as they left the manor and closed the door on Muriel's advancing protests.

"Hold on," Ginny glanced at the coin as it glowed warm again. "Inside the Hogshead."

"The Hogshead?"

"That's what it says."

"Alright," Fred held out his arm for her to take once they were outside the manor's protective enchantments. Ginny glanced gratefully at her older brother and gladly took it. Fred smiled in return and the three of them prepared to disapparate. "Here it begins," he spoke quiet, but steady, "the end of everything."

Ginny opened her mouth to respond, but the world compressed and expanded as the scenery changed and they apparated inside the dark and gloomy bar of the Hogshead. The room was empty but there as a light shining down a back staircase from the second floor. They could hear voices from above. "This way," Ginny let go of Fred's arm and led the way but was stopped when someone else apparated into the bar.

"Lee!" George greeted his friend with a grin. "You heard about the reunion then."

"I got the message from Seamus," he held up his own fake Galleon just like Ginny's.

"We should have kept ours, Fred. We wouldn't be getting news second hand."

"Let's go," Ginny was getting impatient. They climbed the narrow stairs and stepped into the upper room to find its owner sitting alone in a chair by the fire. A portrait hung above the mantle, and without hardly glancing their way, Aberforth Dumbldore pointed his wand at the frame and caused it to swing open. "In there," he mumbled shortly.

"Much obliged," Fred saluted with a grin and helped Ginny into the secret passage before climbing in after.

Brass lamps lit the tunnel leading down and away from the Hogshead. Ginny and the boys moved quickly along the smooth floor, and Ginny's heart rate sped faster the further they hiked. It felt like ages before they turned a corner and found a short stairway leading to a door like the one they had just left at the head of the passage. Ginny stepped up first and pushed the door open without hesitating. She didn't care what was on the other side so long as it led to Harry.

The light of the crowded room they stepped into was bright compared to that of the passageway. Ginny's eyes did not take long to adjust, however, and her gaze landed at long last on the stunning bottle green eyes she had been waiting for. She couldn't stop a grin from spreading on her face at the look on his. Harry looked completely taken off guard, stunned by their sudden appearance and unable to pull his own gaze away from hers even as people converged from all sides to greet them excitedly. Ginny wanted to reach out and draw Harry into a tight embrace. She wanted to smell his familiar scent, feel with her own arms that he was actually there. She wanted to encourage him with a deep kiss, to let him know that it was going to be alright. They were there now. They were there to help him fight.

All of this flew through her mind so fast, but there wasn't time for such sentiments. The room continued to fill from the open passage, and Harry's attention was forced back to the task at hand. _There will be time for that later,_ Ginny assured herself, desperately hoping she wasn't wrong.


	21. Chapter 21

******AN: Certain lines of this chapter have been taken directly from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. They are the property of J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership of them. **

**Fierce Loyalties**

Cho Chang still looked disappointed watching Luna leave with Harry for Ravenclaw tower, but Ginny didn't much care. She turned and focused her own attention on Ron, glad to see him after all that time but concerned with getting answers. "Why the diadem?" she demanded. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Can't tell you, Gin," he shut her down. "Secret Dumbledore stuff." He backed off a little in case she had a mind to hex him for not being forthcoming.

"It would take too long to explain anyway," Hermione was at least sympathetic with her curiosity. "But it is important. I just don't—" she broke off amid the rumble of excited conversation with a sudden frustration. "Ron, how are we going to get rid of it if Harry even finds it?"

"Get rid of it?" Ginny looked from one to the other in confusion. "You need to find it just to get rid of it?"

Ron ignored her question, deep in thought. "Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," he suggested to Hermione who raised her eyebrows with understanding.

"Yes! Let's go," she grabbed his hand and they hurried for the stairs where Harry and Luna had just ascended.

"Wait!" Ginny called after them before grumbling to herself under her breath. "There's a war on and they need to visit the bathroom. Just brilliant."

"What's going on?" Neville appeared at her shoulder.

"I have no idea," Ginny turned with a resigned frown and decided to leave the mysteries up to Harry and the other two. She was getting tired of trying to figure them out. "How are you, Longbottom? Because you look like hell."

"Thanks," he grinned. "Just the same old quality time with the Carrows, you know how it is."

"We missed you, Ginny," Charlotte stepping into their small circle with a smile far too sad for her roommate's liking.

"Charlotte," Ginny pulled her in for a quick hug. "I'm glad you're still here. It's going to be alright now. Harry's back."

"I know," she nodded and returned the embrace gratefully. "It hasn't been too bad, really. At least not for me."

"She knows how to keep her mouth shut," Neville affirmed. "Unlike some of us," he gestured to several facial wounds, compliments of their sadistic professors.

A loud cheer interrupted their conversation as Oliver Wood arrived with Alicia Spinnet. Fred and George moved forward to greet them along with several other members of their old Quidditch team who had already gathered. "We'll take down You-Know-Who then hit the pitch for a quick match, what do you say?" Fred suggested humorously.

"Sounds good to me," Wood shook his hand with a robust pump.

Not long after, the members of the Order of the Phoenix appeared after receiving word of Harry's arrival while still in their meeting. He led the way with Kingsley and the Weasley's close behind. Ginny eased into the background and used the bustle of the crowded room to maintain a low profile. She was certain that her mother would not be thrilled to know she had tagged along with Fred and George. Ginny was not about to take the chance of getting sent back to Auntie Muriel's before the fighting had even begun.

"What was that?" Seamus spoke above the noise of the room, hushing everyone to silence so they could listen. A great banging and clanging was taking place somewhere in the castle. From the sound of it, it was happening everywhere in the corridors, stomping and clanking like metal on stone.

"The suits of armor," Kingsley took an educated guess. "Harry has alerted the staff of his presence, it seems."

"He must have reached the tower," George said. "Maybe he found what he was looking for. Who would set the armor to life? Snape? Are we going to have to fight tin cans for the castle?"

"No," Kingsley shook his head. "That has to be McGonagall's work. If Snape is still in charge, it won't be for much longer." He looked as though he was ready to head upstairs and join the professor in taking back the school when there were footsteps on the stairs. Everyone turned and looked as Harry and Luna reappeared through the open doorway.

Lupin moved forward and demanded to know what was happening.

Harry told him in a rush, confirming Kingsley's suspicions that Snape was gone, the school had begun preparations to protect itself, and Voldemort was on his way. He seemed surprised by the size in which the crowd had grown until Fred explained that they had been spreading the word.

"What's first, Harry?" called George. "What's going on?"

"They're evacuating the younger kids and everyone's meeting in the Great Hall to get organized," Harry said. "We're fighting."

His announcement was met with great approval and everyone rushed to leave the room for the gathering in the Great Hall. Ginny moved with the crowd, hiding behind Neville but not well enough to be missed by her mother's keen eye.

"Ginevra!" Molly grabbed hold of her daughter's arm and pulled her out of the queue of people filing out up the stairs. "Where do you think you're going?"

"The Great Hall?" Ginny ventured to suggest, wincing slightly at the irate expression on Molly's face.

"Not on your life! You shouldn't even be here!"

"Everyone else is!" Ginny argued as her family gathered along with Lupin who looked a little uncomfortable and sympathetic.

"You're underage!" Mrs. Weasley shouted at her daughter as Harry approached. She insisted that Ginny go home, just like Ginny knew she would. There was no way that was happening, and she had hoped to get at least some support from Harry, but he took Mrs. Weasley side. Ginny could have killed him. At least Fred and George tried to argue in her favor, but Harry only shook his head like the annoyingly protective boyfriend that he was. _Thanks a lot,_ she thought scathingly, turning away and preparing to go just as someone fell through the secret passage hole and surprised everyone with his arrival.

It was Percy.

If Ginny's presence at the school was a shock to Mrs. Weasley, this was staggering. It took the family some time to come to grips with Percy's apologetic attitude, and Ginny spotted what she hoped would be the perfect opportunity to move under her mother's radar and slip up the stairs to join the fight.

"Ginny!" barked Mrs. Weasley.

_Damn,_ she bit back her irritation. It had been worth a try anyway.

To his merit, Lupin came to Ginny's rescue and convinced the Weasley's to let her stay in the Room of Requirement during the fight so she would at least know what was going on. It wasn't what she would have preferred, but her father's stern look stopped her from arguing any further. She watched them hurry up the stairs to join the others, trying very hard not to give in to her annoyance with Harry.

He seemed not to realize she was still upset, too concerned with the fact that Ron and Hermione were missing. "I didn't see them pass me," he said, looking confused.

"They said something about a bathroom," said Ginny, "not long after you left."

He checked the small space off of the Room of Requirement, stopping mid-sentence with an abrupt look of pain shooting across his features. Ginny stepped forward in alarm as he fell against the wall, clutching his scar. Harry slid to the floor with beads of sweat breaking out on his face. His breathing became labored and his jaw clenched under the pain of the visions searing his mind.

"Harry?" Ginny knelt gingerly beside him, afraid to even touch him while he was in such a state. "Harry!"

His eyes shot open as if he had just plummeted out of a dream. Catching his breath, he allowed his tense muscles to relax, using the wall at his back for support. Their eyes met and he saw the worry in hers, shaking his head slightly as if to say it was nothing. "I'm fine."

She didn't believe him, but didn't say anything.

"He's here," he told her adjusting his position on the floor with a grimace. Their hands touched, and Harry hesitated only a moment before taking hers and holding it lightly in his. "I wish you would go," he met her eyes again with a look of pleading. "Leave and be safe. I would—"

"Worry about me?" Ginny asked. "Like I worried about you all year? I'm not leaving, Potter," she tightened her grip on his hand so he knew how serious she was. Honorable intentions or not, his wishes weren't about to trump hers. "You can't make me go."

Harry returned her fierce look of determination with an unreadable expression. He looked tired, but not surprised by her desire to stay. He had changed so much since Ginny had last seen him, older and wiser she was sure, but full of the same conviction to do what was needed of him. His strong jaw was lined with day old stubble, and his hair stood in its usual reckless state. She was tempted to brush it away from his sweat dampened forehead, but maintained her attitude of cautiousness. While he had a hold of one of her hands, she held tight to her wand with the other, a mild threat to any argument Harry might pose against her staying.

"None of us are leaving," she told him steadily. "I don't care if Voldemort is here. He can't take the school this time. You got here first."

Ginny was sure he would have something to say to that, but Harry did not speak. To her surprise, he pulled her forward and kissed her hard and long. Ginny's wand clattered on the stone floor where she dropped it. Harry released her hand and encompassed her within his arms, not about to let her go until he was ready. Ginny kissed him back and, for a moment, forgot about fighting, about Voldemort, about everything.

When he pulled away, Harry hesitated to open his eyes, leaning his head against hers. She hated to ruin the moment, but knew she must not delay him any longer. Touching her fingertips to the side of his face, she forced him to look at her. "Get going, Potter," she told him softly with an encouraging smile. "Go meet the bastard at the door."

Harry couldn't help laugh at that, releasing his hold on her and allowing her to sit back and retrieve her wand. "I may have to," he admitted. "But not yet. Not until I find something."

"The diadem?"

He nodded in affirmation.

"Then what are you sitting here for?" Ginny got to her feet and held out her hand for him to take. "Go get it."

Harry took her offer and stood gingerly as a shard of pain shot through his skull. He pushed aside the visions which came so easily to his mind, and maintained his focus on Ginny. "You'll stay here?" he wanted a promise straight from her and wasn't leaving without it.

"Yes," she assured him, and though she spoke sincerely, he hesitated as if he wasn't sure if he should believe her. Thinking better of arguing again, he decided to simply kiss her one last time and leave it at that.

Ginny laughed and pushed him away lightly toward the stairs. "Hurry," she insisted while watching him disappear from the room. "I'll be here."

* * *

Alone and bored in the Room of Requirement, Ginny contemplates breaking her promise almost as quick as she made it. Would anyone really notice if she just slipped out and checked on how things were going? She didn't even know if the fighting had begun yet. She didn't know anything.

Pacing the open floor before the staircase leading out into the corridor of the school, she twirled her wand between her fingers in agitation until sparks flew from the tip and she decided it would be best to put it away. But then, she had nothing to keep her hands busy, and that was even more irritating.

Making up her mind, Ginny headed for the stairs and prepared to sneak out of the Room of Requirement. When her foot hit the bottom stair, a piercing pain like a knife to the brain rent through her skull and knocked her against the wall. Ginny felt the words more than heard them. High-pitched, cold, and familiar like a nightmare. Crouching against the stair, she clutched her head in her hands and fought the urge to scream.

She could see him in her mind, the shape of evil in the form of a sixteen-year-old memory bidding her to do his will. The words tore like guilt in her gut, and there was nothing Ginny could do to get them out.

_"Give me Harry Potter…"_ Voldemort commanded with authority and a slimy touch of compassion to lure them in. He was good with words, smooth with a phrase invoking confidence and trust. The enticing bait before the venomous strike, Ginny knew it all too well._ "Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight."_

And then he was gone.

The oppression lifted like a shadow under a ray of light, and Ginny found herself flat on her back on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Gasping for breath, she opened her eyes and blinked away the moisture, focusing on the distant sound of someone calling her name. Glancing to her right, the room became focused, and Ginny saw Tonks running from the open passageway leading from the Hog's Head.

"Ginny?" Tonks knelt beside her looking worried. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Ginny grimaced and tried to sit up. A throbbing pain erupted at the back of her head and caused her to inhale sharply in protest. "I just bumped my head a little, I guess."

Tonks helped her to her feet and into a nearby chair. "You heard that too, didja? Pleasant little pep talk, that. The Dark Lord doesn't ask for much, does 'e?"

"I didn't think you'd come," Ginny eased back into the chair and inspected her light wound with her fingers. "Where's the baby?"

"With me mum," Tonks informed her, sitting down on the armrest of another chair.

"Lupin's with the others," Ginny said. "They went down to the Great Hall if you want to go find him."

"I'll wait a bit," Tonks shrugged. "Make sure you're alright."

"I'm fine—" They both looked up at the sound of movement at the top of the stairs. It made Ginny think of a herd of hippogriffs thundering their direction, and she stood up as a mass of students spilled into the room led by Filch.

"Where's the passage?" he grumbled as if he detested his orders to lead the evacuation.

"Try the open hole," Ginny pointed listlessly across the room.

Filch bellowed at the students to head out one at a time into the passageway, shoving stragglers out of his way and shouting at them to get a move on.

"Looks like all the underaged," Tonks observed.

Ginny searched the group for any of her classmates who had yet to turn seventeen. She didn't see Charlotte and couldn't help but feel jealous that her friend got to remain behind to fight.

In the midst of all the students trying to escape the castle, a jumble of commotion arose inside the passageway when a latecomer pushed her way through to get inside. "Move out of the way for an old lady," Neville's grandmother scrambled through the opening with more agility than it appeared she would possess. Ginny and Tonks reached forward and helped her get free of the congestion, offering her a chair to catch her breath. "So I haven't missed the fun after all?" she looked pleased and prepared to jump into battle with both feet. "Where's Neville? I'm sure he's anxious to know I've arrived. Took a bit longer to get here than normal, I've been on the lamb you know."

Ginny and Tonks exchanged a look of amusement. "We know."

For the amount of students who tramped through the Room of Requirement, the line moved rather quickly, and Ginny soon found herself alone with Tonks and Grandmother Longbottom. The echo of commotion receded in the passageway and left the room rather hallow and silent. Ginny sank into a chair with a heavy sigh. It would most likely be the most action she saw all night and it was over. Nothing left to do but sit tight and wait.

But not for long. A single set of footsteps approached in the passageway, and Aberforth appeared with a frown of annoyance etched on his face. "The whole bloody school is in my pub!"

Ginny wasn't sure if he was talking to them or himself, as the old barkeep ran by without even looking at them, up the stairs and out into the school brandishing his wand as if he were on a mission.

"What did the fool expect?" Augusta Longbottom sniffed indignantly.

It was only moments later when the door at the top of the stairs opened again, and this time Ginny was relieved to see Harry back with Ron and Hermione. Neville's grandmother asked after Neville, Tonks for her husband, Remus, and both were soon off to join the fight. That only left her, and to Ginny's surprise, the three had a request.

"Ginny," said Harry, "I'm sorry, but we need you to leave too. Just for a bit. Then you can come back in."

She wasn't going to argue with that. Pulling out her wand, Ginny sprinted for the stairs before he changed his mind and completely ignored his insistence that she come back in as soon as they were done.

Bursting out into the corridor, she glanced around to get her bearings. Tonks was down the hall at an open window casting spells toward the ground below. Ginny joined her in a flash, glancing down when the coast was clear to get a good visual of what was happening. "Did you find Lupin?" she yelled over the din.

"Not yet!" Tonks called back as she shot a well-aimed curse at a Death Eater charging the castle walls below.

The ceilings shook and sprayed dust and debris as something large and heavy hit the castle with great force. Ducking below the window ledge, Ginny avoided getting hit by a shard of rock breaking through a pane of glass. She followed the defensive move with another, sending a jinx into the crowd below.

"Good girl!" Aberforth appeared at a run on his way to the north battlements. Tonks asked after Lupin and got word from the barman that he had seen him battling Dolohov but lost sight of him since.

Ginny caught the fearful look on Tonks' face and tried to be reassuring even in the midst of chaos. "Tonks, I'm sure he's okay—" but Tonks was gone, running after Aberforth further into the battlefield. Turning to Harry, Ron, and Hermione where they had appeared outside the hidden door of the Room of Requirement, she didn't know what to say. Lupin had to be alright, he just had to.

Harry tried to convince her that he would be, but didn't sound much more confident. Ginny stood against the far wall as the three of them disappeared back through the hidden door as the Room turned into whatever Harry needed it to be that time. She had no intention of waiting around for them to return just to be shoved back into safety for their peace of mind. Her friends and family were in the midst of danger too, and Ginny was going to do her part to protect them.

Running off in the opposite direction as Tonks, she rounded a corner and came upon a group of fighters at a separate section of windows. A piece of the stone partition between two sections of glass had been blasted away and a horrifyingly large spider was attempting to climb through it with scrambling legs.

"Where the hell did that come from?"

Ginny looked and found Dean in the mess of fighters chucking jagged pieces of the crumbled stone at the monster while Luna hit it with numerous spells in an attempt to send it back over the wall. Ginny joined in with a powerful hex of her own, and the spider hissed and squealed in a grotesque fashion, floundering and losing its hold on the ledge before plummeting backwards over the side.

"Well hit, Ginevra," Luna beamed pleasantly.

"Thanks," Ginny darted by and moved further down the corridor, skidding to a stop when she found Neville. He was armed with Mandrakes and, with the help of Hannah Abbot, was launching them unto the unsuspecting heads of several furious Death Eaters on the ground.

"They're getting in!" Neville leaned out a window and gave a status report. "They're in the castle, come on!" he grabbed Hannah's hand and began running with a mission to pick up some Venomous Tentacula to replace his spent ammunition.

Ginny took the firsts shortcut she could find and rushed down to the marble staircase in the front hall. Peering over the railing, she spotted her mother just beyond the open front doors dueling alongside several members of the Order of the Phoenix. The fighting was thick on the steps leading out onto the grounds, and Ginny shot spell after spell in every direction, darting through the thick and pushing her way outside. "Mum!" Calling out into the night, Ginny pressed herself against the door frame, ducking out of the way as the snarling, massive form of Greyback the Werewolf forced his way inside with gleaming eyes on his prey.

Scrambling around the crumbled mounds of rock and ominously still bodies of the wounded, Ginny called out for her mother until Molly turned in alarm at the sound of her voice.

"Ginny!" Looking panicked, Molly sent a jet of red light over her shoulder and took out the Death Eater she had been dueling. Running for Ginny, she pulled her out of harm's way against the castle wall.

"Mum?" Ginny lost her nerve slightly at the sight of what seemed like hundreds of giant spiders charging for the open foyer.

"Shoot, Ginevra," Molly tightened Ginny's grip on her wand with her own fist over the hand which held it. "Give them hell, dear. Everything you've got."

Taking courage from her mother's tenacity, Ginny sent a barrage of spells into the mass of monsters. It did little good; there were far too many of them. There was a roar from within the foyer, and Molly held Ginny back with a protective arm as the spiders suddenly reemerged carrying a huge mass holding a pink umbrella.

"Hagrid!"

Ginny whipped her head around at the sound of Harry's voice and saw him sprint down the front steps in pursuit of the Hogwarts gamekeeper.

"Harry!" she involuntarily called his name in desperation. He seemed not to hear and did not stop, running after Hagrid and yelling his name before he was stopped by the massive form of a giant in his way. Harry darted back under the door, and Ginny made an attempt to reach him.

Molly held her firmly in place, not about to let her daughter out of her sight again. "Don't move or we'll all be crushed!"

Grawp appeared and the two giants flew at one another as Molly and Ginny ducked out of the way. Pulling forcefully on her hand, Mrs. Weasley dragged Ginny away from the castle doors and the heat of the battle. "Why didn't you stay in the Room?" she demanded.

"I couldn't! Harry needed it, I had to leave," she explained, glancing back over her shoulder and searching in the dark and destruction. "Where's Dad?"

"In one of the towers, last I heard." Molly tried to keep the anxiety out of her voice and led Ginny along a winding path around the castle where the fighting was lighter. It took a great deal of time and effort to get through, dueling and dodging wand fire and shattered battlements from the giant's club blows. Molly eventually found what she was looking for, a low door near the Hogwart's gardens half hidden by creeping vine growing up the stone wall. There was no door handle, but it opened by a command and flick of Molly's wand. "Get in," she pushed Ginny through the opening.

"Mum—" Glancing around in confusion, Ginny didn't think even Fred and George knew about that castle entrance.

"I haven't been through here since my school days," Molly would have sounded nostalgic if she weren't so focused. The door entered on a short, dark hall leading into the dimly lit kitchens. Molly hurried through with Ginny close behind. They found the school house elves clustered in a group looking nervous and lost while the castle seemed to shake around them. Nobody had thought to tell them what to do. "Come on then, you lot," Molly took the initiative. Noticing a familiar face in Kreacher standing off to the side, she spoke directly to him. "Harry Potter needs fighters! Of all kinds!"

Without waiting to see if they would follow, Molly and Ginny rushed out of the kitchen and found themselves in a deserted corridor. The sounds of battle grew louder once again, and Ginny followed her mother back in the direction of the Great Hall from behind. Molly said nothing about returning to the Room of Requirement, and Ginny did not bother to remind her. With renewed energy and the advantaged of the upper ground, the two Weasley women charged back into the fight with their wands at the ready.


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: Once again, this chapter contains lines directly taken from the book. They belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership of them.**

**The End of Everything**

Molly and Ginny reached the bottom of the main staircase to find Tonks in a heated duel with Bellatrix Lestrange in the middle of the foyer. All around them Death Eaters swarmed in a vicious attacks against anyone who dared to take them on. Molly stunned an adversary before he could hit Ginny with a curse, and Ginny ducked around the side of the staircase banister as it exploded in shards of marble and choking dust.

Glancing to her left, she watched helplessly as Tonks dodged a hit from Bellatrix's wand, quickly returning with a shot of her own. Bellatrix squealed with delight, flicking the curse aside recklessly and producing a deadly response as if she were playing a meaningless child's game. Tonks was on the ground, gasping for breath with fear evident in her eyes. Her estranged aunt bore down on her with her wand pointed straight at Tonks' chest, leering with cruel pleasure in her gleaming eyes. "Poor little Nymphadora," Bellatrix jeered. "You've lost your color, darling. What is it, love?" her words dripped with icy sarcasm. "Widowhood doesn't suit you?" Cackling a relentless laugh of terror, the vile woman took her advantage and a ready stance. "Avada Kedavra!"

Tonks flew back with the force of the blow, sliding on the jewel and blood splattered floor and landing in a motionless heap with her eyes closed in permanent sleep.

Ginny crouched in numb shock mere feet away within the protective shadow of the staircase. The world was chaos around her, but she could hear nothing, see nothing but the senseless loss which lay before her. Tonks…gone. Lupin, gone… Choking on a sob, Ginny clamped a quaking hand over her mouth to keep from screaming out in horror.

Bellatrix wasted no time regretting the loss of her niece, sauntering into the Great Hall for more blood without a second glance at Tonks' lifeless body. Ginny sat in shock, with her knees pulled in tight to her chest, clutching her wand for dear life. Arthur appeared at the threshold of the castle doors with Kingsley and joined Molly in her duel against tireless followers of the Dark Lord. Unbidden, hot tears sprang up and obstructed Ginny's vision, and her ears buzzed with the sound of battle all around her. A Death Eater escaped the flying hexes from the wands of the Order of the Phoenix and spotted her where she cowered. A deranged looking woman with mad eyes much like Bellatrix, she grinned with a ghastly row of jagged teeth gleaming in her skull and raised her wand right at Ginny.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Ginny beat her to it, rising to her knees and casting the spell in one quick movement. The witch fell to the floor with a thud, and Molly turned to cast a spell which bound the female Death Eater tightly with strong cords.

"That's my girl," Arthur helped Ginny to her feet. "Come on. Let's move away from the door."

Sprinting forward into the Great Hall in pursuit of more Death Eaters, Ginny and her parents joined Professors McGonagall and Flitwick in battle. Ginny used her anguish against losing Tonks and turned it into the courage she needed to face the more experienced and reckless wands of her foes. With a burning desire to pursue revenge against Bellatrix Lestrange for her deadly deeds, she searched the mass of duelers for the woman with every intention of taking her on.

And then the walls shook. Pain seared through Ginny's mind a second time and it took all she had to maintain her senses and not succumb to the gripping terror of Voldemort's voice inside her head.

_"You have fought,"_ said the high, cold voice,_ "valiantly…"_

Ginny didn't want to listen to his foul words of deceit. She loathed the fact that he called back his followers and she had to stand aside helplessly and watch them go unscathed with sneering faces as they fulfilled their Lord's command. What a coward. Voldemort should have met Harry face to face already, why wait another hour? If he was so mighty and powerful, why hadn't he crossed the grounds and forced Harry to a duel? Let the pitiful Death Eaters stay and finish the fight. Ginny did not want to wait now that she had started. Why put off the inevitable? It only made the Dark Lord look weak. "We should go after them," she said out loud with great bitterness.

"Don't be hasty, young lady," Kingsley watched them go with a burning in his own eyes. "This isn't over yet."

With the fighting at a standstill, the castle seemed to settle into an eerie silence. People slowly began to move, gathering together in the Great Hall, unsure of what they should do. Kingsley instructed them to take what time they had to find the wounded and treat them. Madam Pompfrey took charge at the front of the Hall, creating a make-shift hospital on the platform as the injured were brought in and given care. A line of the departed stretched down the center of the open floor. Debris was cleared away to make room, and the survivors clustered in supportive circles to openly mourn.

Ginny insisted on helping remove Tonks' body from the foyer and moved it into the Great Hall with the others. Lupin was quickly found in the courtyard where the fiend Dolohov had cut him down. The couple were laid out side by side, and Ginny carefully arranged their hands with Nymphadora's left tucked securely within Remus' right.

She glanced up at the sight of George and Percy entering the Great Hall carrying the limp body of their brother, Fred between them. Molly let out a gut wrenching wail, and Ginny's heart stopped with a sickening pang.

"No!" Arthur yelled in disbelief as both of her parents ran across the Hall to their son's side, crying and clutching at Fred's broken, lifeless form.

"No, Fred!" Molly cried hysterically. George's pale face contorted with fresh anguish as he allowed his father to take his twin from his arms. He stepped back and stumbled against the wall for support. His red-rimmed eyes met Ginny's, and a sob caught in her constricted throat. She ran through the crowd of devastated onlookers and hugged George tightly as they both cried.

Fred's body was carried to rest beside the others, and the family encircled it like a protective wall.

"Where's Ron?" Percy asked with a wavering voice.

No one answered because no one knew. No one wanted to guess.

* * *

When Ron and Hermione did finally arrive in the hall, the family experienced a moment of relief in the midst of their grief. Hermione pulled Ginny into a fierce, heartfelt hug as they shed tears for Fred and all those they had lost. Ginny noticed Harry standing at a distance, his eyes fell on Tonks and Lupin, filling with shock and deep pain. He stepped back from the sight with a helpless look of guilt evident on his weary face. His hand tightened in a fist around something small in his palm, and he turned abruptly and fled from the Great Hall and the death which filled it.

"Let him go," Ron stopped his sister from following. "He's not finished with what he has to do."

"He's going, isn't he?" Ginny looked from her brother to Hermione, searching for the truth in their faces. "He's going to the Forest."

Hermione looked pale and helpless. Ron swallowed deeply, his jaw clenching resolutely. "Not if I have anything to say about it. Come on," he turned away from Fred's body. "We need to find more wounded. Neville," he slapped his old classmate on the shoulder as he moved toward the door.

"Hey, Ron," Neville nodded looking tired but no less determined.

He still believed they could win, Ginny realized. Wondering over Longbottom's indestructible faith, she felt bolstered and even a little hopeful. Following the others out onto the battle scarred grounds, she sought out survivors and gathered the dead.

The search was long and exhausting with several trips back and forth from the castle. Ginny returned from helping a Ravenclaw seventh year with a broken foot when she heard a familiar voice calling on the grounds. "Charlotte?" She hadn't seen her roommate for hours. "Charlotte!"

Ginny ran in the direction of the sound, stopping and crouching low over Charlotte's injured body. She was bleeding down her thin face from a head wound, her beautiful blonde hair stained rusty red. Ginny touched her face and felt how cold it was. "Char? It's me," she desperately hoped her friend was okay.

"Ginny?" Charlotte's eyelids fluttered, her voice hoarse from calling for help.

"Can you stand?" Ginny looked her over for more wounds. Charlotte's left leg lay at an odd angle, and Ginny instantly glanced up, searching the grounds for more help. "Lay still, I'm going to get someone."

Charlotte clamped a clammy grip on Ginny's arm so she wouldn't leave. "My mother," she pleaded. "Ginny, I want my mum. I need her." Sobs overwhelmed her, and Ginny willed her own emotions to remain in check so as to keep her roommate calm. Giving Charlotte assurance as best she could, she told her it was going to be alright.

"We're going to get you inside."

"But I want to go home." Her voice was a whisper as Charlotte's energy drained with the effort it took to remain conscious.

Ginny repeated her encouragements, holding tight to her friend's hand and brushing hastily at the tears she just couldn't keep in check. She caught a faint scent like a memory in the air and turned her head at the sound of movement in the grass. There was nothing nearby, it must have been the wind. "Hold on, Char," she looked toward the castle. "Don't go to sleep just yet. Neville!" she waved at Longbottom to get his attention where he stood near the open doors of the school. He jogged over at once and looked horrified at the sight of Charlotte on the ground.

"I didn't even know she was fighting," he picked her up in his arms as gently as he could.

Charlotte bit her lip against the pain, closing her eyes and losing all the color in her face. "Always my hero," she managed a little humor with her strained vocal cords.

Neville raised his eyebrows at Ginny who stifled an exhausted laugh. "Thanks, Neville."

They trudged back up to the school and found Ron and Hermione on the front steps.

"What's wrong?" Ginny noted the worry in their matching expressions.

"We can't find Harry," Ron told her with his gaze on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Ginny quickly glanced around in realization, feeling stunned. "He had his Cloak, didn't he?"

She didn't need to see Ron's reaction to confirm she was right, and it made her feel sick. He had been right there. Right there and she had let him go. Ginny made a compulsive move toward the grounds, but her brother quickly stopped her like before.

Ron shook his head slightly with a firm look of resignation. "It's too late. He's gone."

* * *

News quickly spread throughout the Great Hall that Harry had gone to face the Dark Lord in the Forest. Between the ripple of worry rang also a sense of relief. They would not be facing another round of brutal fighting at the end of the hour. It wasn't over, but at least Harry had given them more time to catch their breath.

The common attitude angered Ginny. She didn't care that Harry wished that none of them would come to any more harm. That, annoyingly, was his way, and she felt it very unfair. What about _his_ life? Wasn't that worth trying to save? She wanted all of them to keep on fighting. Why not charge into the Forbidden Forest with what strength they had left and take Voldemort by surprise before he had a chance to even attempt to kill Harry? Neville, of course, shared her opinion, but Arthur insisted Ginny leave the war strategies up to Kingsley who was in charge. He had yet to announce a decision for their next move, and Ginny felt as if they were wasting precious time.

The last of the wounded and dead had been brought to the castle. The remnants of D.A. sat and waited in silence on the front steps watching a cool dawn spread across the dew dampened grounds. There was nothing for them to do, nothing for them to say.

Before the sun began to fully rise, Arthur summoned them from the open door of the Great Hall. Kingsley wished to speak to everyone and, when all had gathered to listen, he stood on the platform where he could best be seen and heard.

"We can only assume that Harry has gone to engage Voldemort in a head to head duel," he began. "Should he win, the chances are likely he will be killed by one of the Death Eaters before we could reach him. It is safe to say the Boy-Who-Lived will or has already died for us."

There was a murmur of disbelief at his words from those who would not accept it. Kingsley waited for it to subside without arguing. "I hope very much that this is not the case," he said. "But we must be prepared for the worst. Ready yourselves for anything. This fight for our freedom does not end here. Whether Harry lives or dies—" his speech was interrupted by the now familiar and unpleasant amplification of the Dark Lord's voice filling the mountain valley with his dread.

_"Harry Potter is dead."_

Ginny heard the words but did not believe them. Not after Kingsley's warning, not after everything that had happened. She would not believe it. Her mother was in similar denial, shaking her head and covering her mouth with shaking fingers as fresh tears threatened to spill. Ginny sank into an open bench; her legs would not support her any longer.

_"Come out of the castle now,"_ Voldemort continued. _"Kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in a new world we shall build together."_

The grounds fell still and no one moved. None of them knew what to do. Everyone looked to Kingsley who stood motionless with a tight grip on his wand and a stony expression on his battle worn face. He opened his mouth to speak, but it was Professor McGonagall who made the first move.

"No," she shook her head. "I don't believe it. I don't!" Her eyes flashed with tenacity. "Not until I've seen it with my own eyes." She turned where she stood near the doors of the Great Hall and pushed her way out into the foyer. It took a second for anyone to react, and Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sprung to their feet first followed closely by Neville. They ran to the front doors and caught up with McGonagall as she released an exclamation of despair. Ginny hurried forward for a better look out onto the grounds. There, before an army of his Death Eaters, stood a gloating Voldemort, mirthless Bellatrix Lestrange, and a weeping Hagrid holding Harry limply in his cradled arms.

Ron and Hermione reacted in the same devastated manner as McGonagall. Ginny screamed Harry's name as Bill appeared at her side and grabbed hold of her, fighting to keep his sister from running at the mass of delighted Death Eaters.

The foyer filled with stunned spectators and spilled out onto the steps. They raised their voices in anger in response to the enemy's jeers with renewed passion for the fight.

"Silence!" Voldemort raised his wand and demanded the attention of all with an explosive gesture. He commanded that Harry be placed at his feet like scum, and Ginny's insides burned with loathing for the pathetic excuse for a lord as he strutted about calling them names and berating Harry's heroism.

"He beat you!" Ron yelled, defying Voldemort's hold over them and sending the crowd back into a frenzy.

Voldemort silenced them a second time, lying outright about Harry's death. Ginny knew Harry would never run from a fight. He would never put his own life first, and she was not the only one who knew it.

She was forced aside as Neville pushed through in fury. His wand flew into the air as Voldemort disarmed him, and Neville hit the ground at the Dark Lord's feet while his minions laughed with sick pleasure. No pathetic child with rattle-brained parents was going to challenge the greatest dark wizard of all time. If that was the best they could throw at him, Voldemort was greatly disappointed.

Neville's bravery was honorable, but no more than a joke in the eyes of the enemy. His declarations of fearless loyalty served only to amuse the Dark Lord, though the sudden appearance of the Sorting Hat was a surprise to all. With his unending cruelty, Voldemort defiled school tradition and tried to put an end to Neville's defiance, setting the Hat on fire firmly attached to Neville's head. The act of torture began a new round of battle with the sudden appearance of reinforcements to the school gates and the return of the giants. Chaos ensued once again, and Bill pulled Ginny back toward the Great Hall as the Death Eaters surged from their line. Ginny planted her feet and resisted her brother's attempt to protect her. Fleur called his name, and Ginny broke away just in time to see Neville escape from the flaming Hat and pull the glittering Sword of Gryffindor from its opening. The flash of rubies and silver got everyone's attention as Neville raised the blade and removed the head of Voldemort's favored pet snake in one stroke.

The Dark Lord was furious. Centaurs charged in and took on the Death Eaters as the rest of the reinforcements reached the school. Bill grabbed Ginny once again and dragged her into the Great Hall as Voldemort entered the front entrance, attempting to kill anyone who crossed his path.

The Hall filled with people dueling in every direction with Harry's supporters getting the upper hand. Ginny sought out Bellatrix Lestrange right off, not forgetting what she had done to Tonks. Hermione and Luna soon joined her, and it was three on one with the fight in the vicious Death Eater's favor. Bellatrix blocked every one of their hexes as if they were nothing, returning with a killing curse which came precariously close to hitting Ginny dead on.

Catching her breath, Ginny ducked against the wall as her mother flew in with a look of dark passion Ginny had never seen the likes of before. "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" Molly would not allow anyone to help her duel. She wanted Bellatrix to herself.

Taunting the infuriated mother got Bellatrix nothing but greater wrath as Molly sent her final blow with a promise that the foul follower of Darkness would never disturb her family again.

Bellatrix had no time to shield the curse, and Ginny stared in amazement as her mother took out Voldemort's most loyal minion with one flick of her wand. Bellatrix fell, and the Dark Lord screamed in fury, sending those near him flying back against the wall. A paralyzing fear took hold of Ginny as Voldemort's rage concentrated on Molly. He raised his wand, ready to strike. Ginny sprung away from the wall with a fearful scream in her throat before a shield charm erupted in the room from a point unknown.

Everyone, including Voldemort, searched for the source of the charm as Harry unbelievably appeared out of thin air, tossing aside his Cloak with his wand pointed at his great adversary.

Ginny's stomach dropped at the sight of him, and she skid to an abrupt stop beside her mother as the entire room reacted in shock immediately silenced by fear. She watched helplessly from the sidelines with the rest as Harry moved steadily nearer, circling in step with Voldemort with a commanding confidence encompassing his every move. Arguing his case point by point, he laid clear the evidence of Voldemort's demise. The Dark Lord could not win. He could not match the power which Harry possessed, which they all possessed. A power he would never comprehend or value.

The shock of hearing Professor Snape's true intentions and artful double cross orchestrated by Dumbledore himself was staggering, but to be given the answer to the mysterious Hallows was even more incredible. Harry was the true master of the Elder Wand? The wand actually existed? Ginny had no time to ponder it all. The Chosen One and the Darkest Wizard of Their Time raised their wands in simultaneous defensive movements. The room shook with the force of the energy charged magic as the spells collided and Voldemort's wand betrayed him for its true master. Harry caught the Elder Wand in his open hand as the Dark Lord fell and was no more.

Harry had won. The war was over. The survivors cheered and surrounded their hero with ecstatic praise and sounds of gratitude. Ginny forced her way through the mass of celebrators and waited her turn to embrace him behind Ron and Hermione. It was not the time to be selfish for his attention, though she desired strongly to hold on and never let go. There would be time enough for that after the dust had settled. They had all the time in the world.


	23. Chapter 23

**I'll Bring You Back the Snitch**

They met down by the lake at their favorite spot under the shade of a massive oak leaning out over the water. Ginny brought a blanket she borrowed from her dormitory, and Harry managed to bring a thermos of cold pumpkin juice and a small basket of picnic items from the gracious and accommodating house elves in the kitchens. "I hated to ask for it," Harry set down the basket and helped Ginny spread out the blanket on the ground. "They're busy enough already."

"I'm sure they didn't mind," Ginny eagerly dug into the picnic contents, starving after an exhausting day of cleanup on the castle grounds. There was a long way to go yet. They wouldn't be leaving Hogwarts until the school was rebuilt to its former glory. It needed to be ready for lessons to resume in September, and there was so much to do before then. Handing Harry a sandwich, she took one for herself and settled in on the blanket with the tree trunk as a backrest.

The sun was beginning to go down, but the evening was comfortable and not yet too cool. Their little corner of the grounds had a beautiful view of the lake with the castle standing behind them to the left. Other than a few fallen trees knocked down by the giants, the battle scars were less visible from where they sat. Staring out over the glass-like surface of the water, they could easily imagine that things were normal, as if either one of them knew what normal was.

"Tired?" Harry asked, pulling her close under one arm and allowing Ginny to rest her head on his shoulder.

"Exhausted," she sighed through a mouthful of bread, meat, and cheese.

"We made some headway today though," Harry looked on the bright side.

It was true. A lot of the debris had been cleared from the Great Hall, front entrance, and main courtyard of the school. It would take a lot longer to fix the upper corridors and rebuild the broken stone and gaping holes in the windows and walls. The hard part had yet to come for all of them. The long list of funerals to arrange and attend was daunting and something Ginny did not want to think about just then.

"So what was your excuse?" Harry asked, finishing off his first sandwich in three bites and reaching for another.

"I told Mum I wasn't hungry. I said I was going for a walk and then to bed early."

"Sounds plausible," Harry nodded.

"Why? What'd you say?"

"I didn't," he shrugged. "I just avoided Ron and asked Hermione to keep him busy for a few hours so he wouldn't wonder where I was."

"Thank Merlin for Hermione," Ginny took a long swig of pumpkin juice. "Do you think anyone would notice if we didn't come back tonight?"

"You mean, like sleep out here?" Harry looked around in contemplation.

"Why not?" Ginny liked the idea.

"We'll freeze."

"I think a fully competent wizard could find a solution for that."

"They haven't rounded up all the Death Eaters who escaped into the Forbidden Forest yet," Harry argued, his eyes roving the tree line along the edge of the lake.

"Excuses, excuses," Ginny sat up to get a better look at what was in the bottom of the basket, feigning annoyance with his argument. "If you just don't want to spend the night with me, Potter, come out and say it."

"I don't want to spend the night with you," he returned the jest and received a scathing look all too familiar among Weasley women. "_Here_," he clarified with a grin, pulling her back in and circling his arms around her waist despite her efforts to pull away and resume her search of the food basket. "I don't want to spend the night with you here. We could go…" he came up with the first place he could think of, "to the Shrieking Shack."

Ginny's disgusted expression was real this time, and Harry laughed. "Okay, maybe not. Alright, what about London? We could slip off the grounds and apparate—oh, wait. You can't, you're not of age yet."

"You're looking to get hexed aren't you?"

"Are you of age? Did I miss your birthday?" Harry continued to push her good-naturedly to get a reaction, and he received one with a pumpkin pastie in the face from the supply of deserts from the picnic basket. Ginny shoved a generous portion of the pastie in his mouth to shut him up, leaving a mess of crumbs and filling.

"You're hilarious, Potter."

"This is good," Harry wiped his face and licked some off the tip of his thumb, not bothered at all by her actions. "Taste it," he shoved a piece of crust in her face in retaliation, missing her mouth and hitting her nose instead.

"Nice aim," Ginny grunted and reached in the basket for napkins.

"I thought they packed some treacle tart…" Harry leaned in and checked inside. "There it is! Still warm," he picked out a small covered container and found a utensil, lamenting that the house elves had not provided any cream to go with it.

Ginny brushed the mess off her nose and settled back on the blanket, lying flat on her back and staring up at the darkening sky. With the setting sun went the warmth of the spring evening, and she as glad she had thought to wear a cardigan.

"You know Mum still made you and Ron Christmas sweaters this year?" she told Harry. "I think she just needed something to do. I'm pretty sure she packed them with the things we brought to Auntie Muriel's, just in case you were wondering."

"I was, thank you," Harry tossed the empty treacle container back in the basket and spread out beside her, searching for her hand and entwining her fingers with hers.

It was surreal for both of them, sitting there together with nothing but nonsense to talk about, nothing to plan, nowhere to be. Harry's head had never felt so clear. He had nothing to worry about. Not at the moment.

"Did you see Teddy when Andromeda was here earlier?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah," Harry responded with a pang of pain in his gut. He had seen the baby from a distance, across the Great Hall where he had been working with Ron and Neville in the cleanup effort. He had not gone any closer.

Ginny seemed to understand his feelings on the matter, and did not speak any more about it. Every war had its orphans, as Harry knew all too well. He would take his duties as godfather seriously and make sure the boy knew he was wanted, that his parent's sacrifice had not been in vain. But that day had not been the time; the pain was just too fresh for both Harry and Andromeda. He had watched when Mrs. Weasley had offered to hold the baby while Mr. Weasley led Tonks' mother to the place where Lupin and his wife lay in death. Andromeda had already lost so much to the Dark Lord's murderous reign. This had brought her to her knees.

"I'll go visit," Harry told Ginny, "soon."

"I'll go with if you like."

"Yeah," he looked over in the growing gloom. "That'd be nice."

Ginny smiled softly and drew his arm over her shoulders, snuggling in close against his chest to keep warm. They both heard the distant call of her name at the same time, glancing up toward the castle and listening for the voice behind the appeal. "Damn," Ginny muttered. "I shouldn't have told her I was going for a walk. Of course Mum would keep an eye out for my return."

"So much for sleeping under the stars," Harry said, trying to hide his disappointment. Why was it always so impossible for them to find quality time alone?

"I thought you didn't want to spend the night out here?"

"It's not night yet," Harry pulled out his wand and produced a Patronus in the air before sending it galloping up the hill toward the school.

"What did you tell her?" Ginny watched it go.

"Not to worry," Harry tucked his wand away again and pulled her in tighter. "That you were with me."

"I'm not so sure that's going to keep Mum from worrying."

"Maybe it will buy us some time," he shrugged. "I hope Ron doesn't get mad since I never actually spoke with him about us getting back together."

"Spoke with him?" Ginny lifted her head with an indignant snort. "I believe it's me you should be concerned about. When were you planning to ask my permission?" She meant it to be funny, a continued jest in tune with the rest of their lighthearted conversation, but Harry looked at her seriously as if she had a point.

Gently flipping her over on her back, he propped himself up on his elbow and met her eyes with his. "Ginny Weasley."

"Harry Potter," she peered at him curiously, not quite sure what it was he was doing.

"I love who you are."

Ginny's eyes widened in surprise with no ready response to that. Harry was so often the one who fought for the right words when he was with her. Ginny had the Weasley wit and talent for a quick response, but he took her off guard with that proclamation. For a year he had spent hours thinking of her during his endless travels. When Hallows and Horcruxes weren't plaguing his mind, she had been. In his memories of their short time together or simply in seeing her name on the Marauder's Map while she was at school, he had thought about her in great detail. He had made a mental note of all the things he loved about her, and for once he knew exactly what he wanted to say.

"I love that you're like your mum."

"Oh, god…"

"Shut up," he shushed her, "I do. Not exactly like her, but a lot like her. She's tough. Had to be to raise all of you," Harry smiled, and Ginny laughed, not able to argue with that. But why were they talking about her mother? "Anyway," Harry moved on. "I love your courage and your bravery…your humor. I love watching you fly a broom."

"Well, I am good at that," she didn't mind admitting.

"Yes you are. You're a damn good Chaser and a pretty decent Seeker. Sometimes."

"All the time."

"Sometimes," he wasn't going to give her that one. "You're amazing and strong. You didn't just survive the last few years, you challenged them. I am in love with who you are, and I hope you want to be my girlfriend as much as I want to be your boyfriend."

"Hell…" How was she supposed to answer to that? "You didn't even have to ask."

Harry laughed and Ginny joined in, running her fingers through his hair and pulling him in for a kiss. The sun disappeared entirely and the stars filled the sky with their brilliance. Harry decided to build a fire, warding off the early May chill. Perhaps they would stay out there all night after all, Forbidden Forest haunts or not.

"You _are_ Harry Potter," Ginny pointed out. "Who's going to want to mess with a wizard possessing the Elder Wand?"

"Not physically," he pointed out, setting flame to a nice pile of fuel in their little spot by the water. "Not anymore."

"Well, they don't know that," she nodded in the direction of the forest before digging in the picnic basket once again. "You should have had the house elves toss in something we could roast."

"We could warm up the last of the pumpkin pasties," Harry suggested and plopped back down on the blanket once again.

"Here's a question for you, Potter," Ginny curled up in a ball with her head in his lap.

"Shoot."

"With the world free of Lord Voldemort and you free from your obligation to destroy him, what exactly do you plan to do now?"

"Besides spend the night with you?"

"Besides that, yes."

Harry thought about it while absentmindedly playing with her hair with his fingers. "I want to catch them all."

"The Death Eaters?"

"Yeah, but not just them. I think that those who willingly went along with what he did should be brought to justice too. At least those who did it for their own gain." He made a fist and watched the scar stand out on the back of his hand under the firelight.

"So you still want to be an Auror?" Ginny asked, figuring as much.

"Yes."

"And before that? In the near future?"

Ginny was facing the fire so she did not see the small, pleasant smile which played on Harry's relaxed features. "I want to go flying."

Ginny grinned at this similarly expected response. "Throw together a quick game of Quidditch maybe?"

"Definitely."

"Well, we almost have a whole team here. We could fill in some holes, maybe see if the Ravenclaws are up for an impromptu match just for fun."

"We can't leave out the Hufflepuffs," Harry pointed out fairly. "And I guess if any Slytherins join in the rebuilding efforts we should include them too."

"If we must," Ginny pulled a disgusted grimace which Harry missed. "One last game on the Hogwarts pitch. One last chance for you to play Seeker. I like that idea," she agreed. "As long as I still get to be Captain."

"Captain?" Harry laughed. "Yeah, I guess I can allow that. Captain Ginny Weasley, the finest looking Chaser at Hogwarts."

"Yep. I'll chase the hell out of that Quaffle."

"You score all the goals," Harry relaxed against the tree headrest and closed his eyes as Ginny took hold of his hand in hers once more. "And I'll bring you back the Snitch."

**AN: That's it, last chapter! I hope it was worth the read! Thanks so much for all the awesome reviews. This story is over, but there will be more to come from me, I assure you! As always, the characters and settings of this fanfiction are the property of J.K. Rowling , and I do not claim any ownership. Thanks! :D**


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